Death Waltz
by Ched890
Summary: In return for her life, Skye Riverson is forced to become Ciel Phantomhive's maid. In order to protect him, she enrolls into the same prestigious school. But what will happen when the mysterious, crimson eyed boy in her class moves in, wishing to share the same master? Teen, OCxSebastian, modern day & not 'fan-girly'.
1. Chapter 1

**A note before I begin**: this is set in an alternate universe: modern day. Sebastian is not a demon (I don't think? O_o). The story revolves around an OC: Skye Riverson. I made her up. Out of my head.

**Disclaimer for this whole series: of course, I do not own Kuroshitsuji / Black Butler. **

P.S. please bear with me for the first chapter, it gets better -I do not tell lies :)

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter One**  
**The Lavender Bed**

Today is a new day.

I walk with a spring in my step, down towards to centre of the valley.

Sighing happily, I close my eyes and raise my chin to the morning sun. Breathing in, a huge gust of fresh country air fills my lungs. There are so many flavours and smells in that one breath that I begin to laugh delightedly to myself.

...Then again, am I really laughing to _myself_? That makes me sound so lonely – but I am anything but alone.

I am free; completely and utterly free. I am freer than the birds, with their feathered wings gliding through the heavens. In fact I am so fee, I think I shall spin. Ah yes, that's it: I'm spinning now.

The forest around me is but a blur of colours. And oh, what magnificent colours they are! Reds and oranges and pinks and blues. There are fifty thousand shades of green: emerald green, bottle green, pea green, greens so yellow I'm not even sure if they a_re _green…

I screech delightedly to the trees and the birds and the flowers.

I'm so dizzy I can barely walk, and I'm stumbling into all sorts of plants I don't even know the name of. And at last I fall to the ground, my landing cushioned by a thick flurry of lavender.

"Mmm…" I sniff, "lavender…"

.

I gaze up at the sky in a daze. It's a brilliant shade of blue, and there's a great big feathered animal gliding over me. There are so many creatures and animals in the forest that I gave up researching their names long ago. I have decided that no name would do their beauty justice, anyway.

There are people in the forest too. No, not forest people (however much I pretend they exist), just normal people. They saunter through the woodland on their way to work or school or wherever their paths of normality lead them.

But I don't think they're normal at all.

How could any normal person walk through this place, and not stop to stare in awe and wonder? It bothers me, these people. If reality robs you of this pleasure, then I'd rather sleep forever in this false world of dreams. After all, a dreaming land is the best kind of land, in my opinion.

**A DEFINITION****_  
_**_**Dream: An unrealistic or self-deluding fantasy**_

That's why I always try to dream – even when I am awake. Gazing at the world through the lens of a dream is such a beautiful thing. It's like seeing everything with fresh, new eyes. I never want to let go of this.

"What are you doing?" a boys voice is tugging at the corners of my consciousness.

"Thinking" I say, hoping my vague answer will make the voice go away.

"About what?" clearly not.

"Everything" I say, "don't you think it's beautiful?"

"What?"

"The world."

"No." His voice is blunt, "Get up Skye, you're making me late for school"

That does it. I'm snapped out of my hazy half-existent world and slung back into the iron prison of reality. The boy looming over my bed of lavender is my 'brother', Ciel. Ciel is one of those prisoners of reality.

"Fine" I surrender, hauling myself up from the lavender bed.

"You reek of lavender,"

"Good. I like lavender."

.

I walk beside my 'brother' through the forest. Of course, Ciel is only a fake brother. My real family died several months ago. Yes, it's sad…but not as sad as other things. I have gotten over my past now, and today is a new day. I shall start school. I shall continue to work. I shall distract myself, by any and all means necessary.

This is why I take great pleasure in the distraction of dreams. In my Dream Land, it's like wearing thick, tinted glasses: I see the same world as you, but through a rosier perspective. The biosphere I see whilst wearing these invisible, rose tinted glasses is the best distraction from the harsh reality of life. In my dream land, I do not imagine my family to be alive – no, that would be dangerous.

I simply imagine a world where it doesn't matter that they're dead.

.

We're nearing the edge of the forest now: the trees are growing thinner and fewer. My enthusiasm droops slightly as we leave the embrace of the trees and step onto the street. It's always so much easier to slip into my dream world when I'm in the woodland.

As we grow closer and closer to school, my stomach begins to churn uncomfortably. It does not churn because I am worried, however. I am not worried about those mundane things like making friends. I decided that I do not necessarily need friends: in my life, school shall only exist as a distraction from my past. And besides, protecting Ciel would be distracting enough. So no, my stomach twists for a different reason. I'm worried that this school is not going to be distracting enough.

I reassure myself that it's going to be fine: I've missed several months of school, it should be plenty stressful. And we all know that stress is a perfect form of distraction.

"We're here" Ciel murmurs and we both look up at the building in front of us.

**A SNAPSHOT OF ST CHARLES_  
__A grand building which resembles a 14__th__century cathedral more than a school. The exterior facade is two spear-like towers. In between them, a grand oak door, sitting underneath a circular detail of carved stone entwined with glass. The building then stretches out on either side of the towers in a crescent. All of this is surrounded by pillared paths, and sits behind an extravagant courtyard._**

So the exterior of St Charles' is rather grand, to say the least, and I sigh at the thought of just how religious it's going to be. We've already established that God hates me, is there really much point in rubbing salt into my wounds? Clearly whatever deity is in charge around here, they have a sense of humour in sending me here.

"Looks posh" I say, and it doesn't exactly sound like a compliment.

"Welcome to hell." And that definitely wasn't a compliment.

* * *

SO tada, there's the first chapter - sorry if it's a little dull for you, it'll get interesting soon I promise :) see the next chapter VERY SOON! Do leave feedback - I'd love to know your opinions :)

[[P.s. Yes the title of this is story very unoriginal, but I'm still in the process of writing & so I have no idea what title will do the story justice (meaning no worries if the title of this suddenly changes~!)]]

~Ched.~


	2. Chapter 2

SOME WORDS

_If you haven't already, I'd like to suggest you change the format of this story to "1/2 page" or "3/4 page" (found top left) - that's the way it was written, so that's the way it's probably best read :)_

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Two  
****It's Not Just Curiosity That Killed the Cat.**

The day starts off badly, as you can expect. In my first lesson, my maths tutor asks me to introduce myself to the rest of the class.

**AN EXACT ACCOUNT  
****"_So… My name is Skye."_**

I'm not sure if I could have made the situation any more awkward than that. Thankfully, after a few moments of burning tension, the professor takes pity and lets me crawl to a desk at the back of the room. Ah, the sweet feeling of those burning stares (not).

I spend the rest of the day in my Dream Land. I walk in a daze to different lessons, oblivious of the stares and the snickers in my direction. I'm not sure how I manage to get from one room to the next. Perhaps I read the school map last night better than I gave myself credit for.

Either way, I survive the morning and at lunch time I find myself in a flower garden of some sort. Of course my mind is still hazy, so my feet have simply taken me anywhere that's away from the crowds of students.

Thankfully, my sub-consciousness has also chosen a rather nice spot for a one-man picnic. The flowers in the garden are blooming in rather exquisite shapes and a limitless variety of different colours. I'm not sure if there are other people in the garden, but either way my Dream Land blocks them out.

I pass the lunch hour and form in this dreamy haze where I simply imagine that I am alone. Fully intending to spend the last period like this, I wonder in to my final lesson of the day. I'm not even sure which subject it is.

So it comes as a shock when I'm standing in front of the entire class – all of whom are looking at me expectantly.

My mind suddenly realises where I am, and my heart begins to pound grotesquely as I try to establish what I'm supposed to be doing.

"What?" I say, dumbly.

The teacher smiles, half amused but half sympathetic.

"What is your name?" He asks, as though talking to a small child who's lost and can't find their way back to their mother. I suppose that fits me well.

"Skye Riverson" I say, still confused. How did I get here?

"Hello Skye Riverson. And what brings you here?" He asks.

It's such an innocent question, asking me why I moved here. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! _How did I not realise I would surely be asked this question? My stomach is twisting grotesquely like it was this morning. My brain is baffled, still trying to work out what's real and what's a dream.

"I…" my voice stutters and my throat grows dry. I begin to lose control of my body. My hands are shaking and my legs have gone weak. My eyes are making my vision blurry. What is wrong with me?

I try to fight the fluster of my body, and attempt to come up with a suitable reason as to why I am here. However in all honesty, I don't know. Why am I here? Why am I living with strangers now? Trying to rack my brain for excuses is like wading through a thick river of mud.

Fear.

That is what my body is screaming. The fear I felt that night, as I hid under the bed. Whoever murdered my family had forgotten one crucial rule of hide and seek.

**ONE CRUCIAL RULE OF HIDE AND SEEK**  
**_Always look under the bed._**

They didn't deserve to die. But they did. _Why? Why did you have to go and do this? _There had always been something mysterious in my family…But I had never found out what.  
And I suppose that was my crucial mistake. If I had known, would I have been able to stop them?

"Miss Riverson?"

I'm snapped out of the confused fluster of my mind. I've been gazing out of the windows, pensive to say the least. There's no more fear in my body any more, really. There is just sadness; an overwhelming sadness deep in the pit of my stomach. My muscles ache from the shaking, and my brain is numb. I turn back to look at him. Shock must be evident on my face…I had quite forgotten about my company.

"Yes?"

"You may sit down now."

Everybody is staring at me. I wonder how much I have ruined in those last few seconds. How much have they realised? I walk slowly past each desk, watching my feet.

At last, I reach the only empty seat in the room. It's next to someone else - a boy - but at least it will relieve my legs. Beggars really can't be choosers.

I collapse as inconspicuously as I can into the chair. Out of the corner of my eye I see the boy look at me, then focus his attention on the scenery through the window. Well, at least he made an effort to avert his gaze.

That's more than can be said for the others.

Throughout the lesson, different people keep looking at me. I train my eyes firmly on the desk, and attempt to sink back into my dreamy state. But however hard I try, I simply cannot escape from reality.  
Every time I'm close to falling into the anaesthetic of the Dream Land, a student somewhere mimics my speech from earlier.

I resign myself to a lesson of hell.

Gazing out of the window, I realise that the day has become overcast, in contrast to the morning's sunshine. I sigh quietly; it's always so much easier to be happy when the sun is shining. But I suppose the weather simply compliments my mood.

I try to maintain a sense of tranquillity. If I stay calm, then this whole calamity will die down soon enough. Perhaps my mind will even treat me to a few moments of rest in my Dream Land.

"Excuse me?" The boy next to me is asking for my attention. His polite voice catches me off guard, if only for a second. It isn't like any voice I've ever heard before – I suppose it's the perfectly proper, clipped speech. Does everyone here talk like that?

"Yes?" I say, still focusing my attention on the window.

"Are we going to talk about the poem, or not?"

I suppose we're in English then. I was beginning to wonder what subject this was.

"No, I suppose not" I say. They must sound rude, these words. But I don't mean for them to be. Put simply, there are far more pressing matters than poems right now.

"Look at me" he says. There's a clear edge of demand in his voice now, although there still seems to be an air of politeness somehow.

"What?" I'm caught off guard by such a sudden request. Before I can decline however, a thumb and forefinger pinches my chin and forces my neck to face him.

"Hey!" I mumble, trying to resist his slender yet so very strong fingers. Unwillingly, my eyes meet his.

**A BRIEF OVERVIEW OF THE BOY SITTING NEXT TO SKYE RIVERSON  
****_He is a handsome boy, and far taller than she. He has long, silky black hair – so long in fact, that he has resorted to tucking some strands of it behind his ear. But the most striking of his features are by far his crimson eyes. As they bore into Skye's deep blue ones, a devilish smile curves his lips._**

"You should very much consider doing something productive today, Miss Riverson" he says, sounding somewhat amused.

"Excuse me?" I'm baffled that someone's even talking to me – let alone in this manner.

"I do believe you understood me quite perfectly" He says quietly. It's uncomfortable and tense. I don't know what to say. His eyes are burning…so much burning…

Just like that night. My home had been demolished by a blaze of raging fire. I suppose they had done that in order to destroy the evidence. Finger prints, bodies…they would all be clues as to who murdered my parents.

I had been stuck inside. My mother had told me to stay under the bed, no matter what happened. But then, she had also said to stay alive. I remember it clearly…lying under the bed, watching as the flames grew and grew, engulfing me. Choking me. So I had decided to run, and proceed with the latter of her two commands. I ran through corridor, after corridor, after corridor…

I can feel my body lose control for the second time in less than an hour. My heart is squelching grotesquely against my ribs. I'm slowly deteriorating into another vision. _NO, _I scream at myself internally_.  
_  
I slap his hand away from me, and deal the boy my darkest glare.

"Don't touch me so unnecessarily." I say, quietly. I've never been able to hold a glare for long, and so I resort to silently keeping my head down, watching my textbook for the rest of the lesson.

The boy did not acquire my attention again.

* * *

Phew, I expect you were getting worried about the Sebastian-less state in Chapter One? ;)

Hope you enjoyed that - chapter three will be out soonish, do feel free to leave feedback!

~Ched.~


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**  
**A Chase With Death**

*******Five Months Previously*******

I'm running blindly through the overgrowth of the vast cornfields. They never looked this big from my bedroom window. My legs are whipped by corn with every stride. My breathing is shallow and every breath I take is more painful than the last. I can't do this much longer…

_Don't look back! _I scream to myself for the fiftieth time. If I look at the scene behind me, that image will be forever etched on every wall of my brain.

The image of my home and everything I've ever known being turned into ash.

It's so surreal, running in the pitch black of night. Everything is completely silent – I'm now too far away to hear the roaring flames devouring my home. It's eerie…and almost peaceful. If it weren't for the fact that I was running from Death, that is.

**SCRAWLLED ON A NOTE FROM DEATH HIMSELF  
**_**Here is a small fact: Skye Riverson, you are going to die.**_**  
**

Death is gliding behind me with ease, tormenting me – mocking me. He's sneering as I stifle cries of agony, trying to keep myself together. _Just keep going dammit, _I scream at myself internally. Death is licking my tears, murmuring temptations into my ear:

_Ooh, just imagine it…Imagine how much easier it would be if you gave yourself to me. It won't hurt…I'll be nice…Very nice. I'll caress you with the same hand I used to caress your parents. Oh my, you'd like that wouldn't you? I can feel it; you want to be with them. Join me, Skye Riverson. Join them._

I admit that his words are enticing me. I would so very much like to welcome death with a warm embrace. I want Death to catch me. I want Death to smother me in his long, black cloak. I want Death to kiss me with his rotting teeth, and caress my cheek with his emaciated fingers.

But you can't always get what you want.

Because my mother's last command is ringing through my head: _stay alive._

_NO! _l scream at Death in my mind, and he shrinks back a little. But then he sneers,

_Oh, a feisty one aren't you?_

_You took them! YOU TOOK THEM! _Death laughs at these words,

_Oh, you naïve little child. What could I do? Their time was up…And so is yours. _

_No it's not. You're lying. _But even in my whispered thoughts, I am lacking conviction.

_You know very well that I am not lying, Skye Riverson. You want to join me just as much as I want to join you._

_I can't. Mother told me. She told me to stay alive. _

_Alive? Alive? _He emits a sharp bark of sardonic laughter. _What life would you have, Skye Riverson? You have no family. No home. Not even a penny. You are better off dead._

"SHUT UP!" I scream.

I stop dead in my tracks.

My heart is thudding in my throat. I didn't mean to actually scream. My eyes are wide as I stare around me. Please, please say no one heard me.

I slowly take in my surroundings, holding my breath. I look back, even though I had promised myself I wouldn't…

My home is nothing but a little, fiery dot in the distance. It's almost therapeutic, watching the fire dance around it. It looks like a tiny little firefly amongst the vast black eternity of night surrounding it.

I wait for what feels like hours, standing there and waiting for something to catch me.

But there is no one here but myself.

I feel the tears begin to roll silently down my cheeks. Even Death is silent.

"I must keep going" I whisper hoarsely.

So I do. I swallow my sadness and I walk through the countryside, stumbling over roots and tearing my skin on branches lurking in the shadows. But I don't even care. I have nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Even the sky is mourning. It's beginning to cry big, heavy drops of rain. But I don't cry with it. Crying doesn't solve anything.

.

I'm not thinking of my parents as I walk. Not of their bodies, extinct of life…nothing but empty shells.

No.

Instead, I am pondering over science. The science of cause and effect, to be exact.

There is always a cause to something, a 'reason' as such. I've constantly needed that reason, it's been important to me. It compensates me for what I don't understand about life. If I know the reason behind the enigmas in our existence, then I can come to understand this thing called life. I may come to appreciate it, even.

But the longer I live and the longer I look, the less sense it makes to me. For every action there's an equal _re_action, yet the laws that govern this cosmos seldom have anything to do with what we know of human experience. We are chaos: unrulable. So most of us turn to "God" or…something else.

But we will all die. And there will always be a reason. Whether we believe in a deity or not, that will not change. That's a scientific fact…But it's not the truth.

"Can I help you?" I jump, snapping out of my reverie. There is something looming over me. I'm trapped in its shadow. I look up, startled to find someone looking down at me.

"Wh…Who are you?" I stutter. I shrink back, wanting to run but my legs are numb.

"My name is Takaka. I am the butler of the Phantomhive Manor…may I help you?" he repeats, looking at me with concern.

**THE BUTLER NAMED TANAKA**  
_**He is an old man, clad in traditional butler's attire. He wears a monocle, and his silver-grey hair has been slicked back, away from his tired looking eyes. His equally silver eyebrows are furrowed with concern as he gazes at the soaking wet girl by his feet.**_

"Miss?"

"H-how did I get here?" I ask, my voice wavering.

"I believe I was about to ask you the very same question."

"I…" I am lost as to what to say. I had not realised where my feet were taking me.

"Let me take you inside, and we shall converse further once you are well fed. You poor child…" He reaches down to take my hand, but I scramble backwards.

"N…no. P-please don't t-touch me…" I look up at him in fear. What if he has something to do with my parents?

"I'm very sorry" He bows "I only intend to help you. Would you not like to come indoors, out of the rain?" He smiles kindly.

Then something hits me. I have nothing. I have nowhere else to go. This is my only chance…I give in.

"Please help me." I whisper.

"Very well" He bows politely and I accept his hand. He helps me up -

I gasp, sharply sucking in a deep breath. "My foot…" I begin to sink back to the wet, puddled ground. The land seems to be regurgitating water, sick of trying to absorb it all.

The butler takes hold of my arm, and gently places it round his shoulder. He supports me so that I may limp forwards towards a house.

If you can call it a house, that is. I gulp as I look up, taking it in for the first time.

It's big. Very big. It's not even a house, really - it's more of a mansion. It's far larger than my own home, which would also be classed as a mansion. But it was nothing compared to this. Back when it wasn't being eaten by fire, that is…

.

After an agonising amount of limping and cursing and worried looks from the butler, I find myself in a small kitchen. The man has given me a warm towel ("gosh, look at the state of you!"), and is now heating up some sort of broth. He is staring at me with apprehension.

"I'm sorry" I say quietly.

"What for, my child?" He asks, genuinely surprised.

"For causing you trouble." He chuckles,

"I can assure you, you have caused no trouble"

"Thank you." I reply weakly.

"So, what has brought you here?"

I'm caught off guard, and end up spilling out the truth under his wise, knowing gaze. I blurt it out.

"I-I... My family…My parents are dead. Th-they killed them. So I…I had to run away." I say, my voice breaking a little. I had not planned to tell the butler, but his question was asked too soon for me to come up with an appropriate alibi.

"Do you know who killed them?" He asked, covering up his shock with a calm expression, taking control of the situation.

"No." I say, helplessly.

"Absolutely no idea?" he presses.

"No. But I know they'll come and get me too" I whisper.

He lays the bowl of soup down in front of me, giving a pitying look.

"As a guest, you are in the best possible care here" he said, placing his hand over his heart and bowing. He looks at me with an unreadable expression however, which seems to contradict his words somehow... "Eat" he says.

So I do. He watches me intently with each spoonful. But my hand is feeling heavier and heavier…my head, too…it's so heavy.

"I'm so…tired…" I say, gazing wearily at the man beside me. He's giving me an apologetic look, as a dark mist begins to cloud my vision…I'm falling…

I am being engulfed by the choking haze. But it's such a lovely, warm haze…_sleep _it's telling me. _Sleep, Skye Riverson, sleep…_

Sleep….Sleep…Sleep…

My eyes are heavy.

_Sleep…Sleep…_

Why are they so heavy?

_Sleep…_

"I'm sorry I had to do this" comes the butler's voice.

Everything has gone black.

* * *

TANAKA? Oh dear :') Skye's story of five moths previously will continue next chapter.

Hope you liked it, do feel free to give feedback as always - did you like the Death hallucination or was it a waste of time? I sure had fun writing it anyways ahaha, see you soon! ^_^

~Ched~


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**  
**A Chase With Death - Continued**

*******Five Months Previously*******

When my eyes flutter open, I gaze around unseeingly. There's a silky piece of cloth wrapped tightly across my eyes. I hope to God that I'm wearing a blind fold, and not some sort of bandage covering empty sockets. Not that God is particularly on my side right now…

But as my mind begins to catch up with my body, I become certain of three things:

**Number One:** I am bound to a hard, wooden chair.

**Number Two:** Thick, rough rope is digging into my ribs and my wrists.

**Number Three**: There is no escape.

I suppose it sounds melodramatic, but this isn't the first time tonight that I've believed that my life is going to end. I suppose it's only natural, given the circumstances.

But now I know. I know it was a colossal mistake to come here, to this place. They're going to kill me now. Or worse, of course...There are fates which make even death tremble.

I shudder as a cold, forbidden thought enters my mind. A small possibility, just fluttering there innocently: _what if you're now in the hands of those who killed your parents?_

My blood runs cold.

_Oh no. Please, no._

Have I in fact just given myself to them willingly, without even realising? Was I so stupidly blinded by the events of tonight that all this time, I have been running right towards them – despite running in the opposite direction?

_Oh God please no. Please no, no, no._

I begin to struggle: to kick and squirm and wriggle. But the rope is only proving to grind against my wrists, etching away at my flesh. They remain solidly attached to the arms of the chair. Attempting to gnaw at my bindings, I try to bend forward. But the rope around my chest slings me back mercilessly.

Panicking now, I thrash around in the chair, trying to free myself somehow. I feel like a little forest creature which has been caught up in the net of a hunter.

Suddenly, I stop.

I can hear something.

Holding my breath, I strain to listen: …_tap, tap, tap…_

What is that?

_Tap, tap, tap, TAP, TAP..._

It's getting louder. And something in the back of my mind is screaming just one thing: _DANGER_.

I squirm silently, willing the tapping to stop. My skin is protesting as it's etched away by the rough, coarse rope. Something warm is beginning to ooze from my wrists. _I don't care…I don't care…Oh God, just get it off!_

Then, I stop.

I've realised what that tapping is. That faint, rhythmic tapping which is getting louder and louder and louder. And closer.

Footsteps.

And it's a well-known fact that footsteps belong to people. And people can be murderers.

They stop. I can almost hear breathing. For an agonising few seconds I wait. Are they in the room? I'm not sure…I didn't hear a door open. _Is_ there a door?

Then, as though in slow motion, I can hear what must be a handle turning…slowly…slowly.

_PRETEND TO BE ASLEEP, _I scream at my body. They can't attempt to gage a response of I'm unconscious–right? So whilst the footsteps gradually come closer to me, I keep my head down and my breathing slow. _Breathe in...Breathe out...Breathe in...Breathe out_. Despite the screaming of every cell in my body, I try to maintain this rhythm.

I hear the sound of fabric ruffling, indicating that someone (or some_thing_, even_) _is leaning down, so their face is on the same level as mine. I can feel their breath on my brow, ruffling my fringe ever so slightly.

Each of my long, slow breaths is becoming more and more forced, as I try to suffocate every urge I have to scream. It's excruciatingly difficult not to cringe away from the figure in front of me. I can feel their presence more and more with each passing minute.

Then, I hear the most humourless of chuckles I've ever heard.

"Do you think I am a fool, Skye Riverson?" the words make me flinch ever so slightly as they slice through the silence. Their voice is strange...Too deep to be a girl's, and too shrill to be a boy's. And how do they know my name, anyway?

There's another bitter laugh as I attempt to remain 'asleep'.

"I admire your persistence." I hear them say in mock appreciation, as I remain completely silent.

All of a sudden, I feel something sharp digging into my arm, and I can't help but gasp and whimper ever so quietly. My pretence is shattered.

Another emotionless chuckle "I thought as much." I hear the movement of fabric against fabric as they stand up straight again, relieving my face of their painfully unperturbed breathing. Their footsteps echo in the otherwise silent room as they walk around my seat.

And as they circle me, I begin to feel more and more like an animal herded up for slaughter. I hadn't really noticed just how vulnerable I actually am right now. But that pain they initiated in my arm...If they wanted to do anything else, they undeniably could. How would I possibly be able to stop them?

They have my entire life in their hands, and I can only hope that they will hold it gently.

_So whatever you do, play good, _I warn my mouth. However, I have always gone for the method of 'killing with kindness'. Does that work with psychotic murderers? Well...to be honest, there's nothing else I can do anyway.

"My butler tells me you ran away," comes the voice again. It's not a question, but it sounds like it needs an answer. I nod once. "Well, well...And you thought you'd just come here, did you?"

"I'm sorry," I whisper, speaking for the first time.

"Why did you run away?"

Silence.

Should I tell the truth? Is honesty really the best policy when you're tied down to a chair with some psycho circling you like you're some piece of meat?

But my stomach lurches as I realise: the butler will already have told him. Lying won't solve anything. Why, why was I so_ stupid_?

"My parents were murdered." I say bluntly, under far too much pressure to flower the truth with unnecessary words. And besides, the quicker they get this over with and kill me, the less time I'll suffer.

"I see," they reply, void of any sympathy. "And I assume those people are after you now, too?"

"Yes."

"And consequently, after me." Their words are like a slap across the cheek. Oh my God what have I done? _Why am I such a fool? _I have been so selfish – I hadn't even thought about what coming in here would do to them. And now they're going to die too.

Wait, why do I care? Here I am about to be killed myself for all I know, and I'm worrying about _their s_afety?

"Yes, I suppose so." I say quietly, though I can't help but give a small, satisfactory smile at that. At least I'll be taking my killer down with me.

"How selfish," he says, though it's not an insult; just a statement.

"I'm sorry."

"Do you know who I am, Skye Riverson?"

"No."

"My name is Ciel Phantomhive" they say simply.

That shocks me more than a little. Of course I know who Ciel Phantomhive is. The famous Earl...Rolling not only in money, but also power. There isn't a single day that goes by when I don't see the Funtom Company logo somewhere. He has completely monopolised not only the toy industry, but the candy market too.

Only God knows what this boy can do to me. His authority is limitless. A cold sweat breaks out across my temple, as my mind races with every possible outcome of tonight; so far, not so good.

"Ah, so you do know me?" his footsteps stop, right in front of me. I can sense him once more bending down to face me. "Therefore I suppose you are aware of the amount of death threats I already receive?" he says quietly.

I gulp, "Yes."

"And so now your careless actions have increased the danger I'm already in." There's a long pause.

"I'm sorry," what else can I possibly say?

"Yes," he says. There is an even longer silence. "What do you know of self-defence, Skye Riverson?"

"I..." my voice trails off, his question was unexpected. Where is this going?

"If you can't protect me, Skye Riverson, then I have absolutely no use for you" he says. I feel something sharp dig ever so slightly into my right arm. It's obvious what his intentions are.

"Kyūsho," I say hastily before the sharp object can sink deeper into my flesh, "I know every pressure point in the human body."

He sniggers, "And what good is that?"

"A lot of good. They can produce a number of effects when manipulated in a certain way. Excruciating pain, unconsciousness..." I trail off, _please say that's enough. _

"Is that all?" he asks, unimpressed.

"I...I can shoot too." I say.

"Very well." He begins to circle me again, but slower this time. "Then here's how we shall do this: you will become my maid. You will live in this house, and work with my servants. You shall carry out my every command, and protect me by any and all means necessary."

He stops, right behind me. I tense as he whispers into my ear, his breath tickling my neck, "Do you understand?"

"Yes," I'm not sure if I should be grateful that he's not going to kill me, or concerned that my life has become that of a dog's: to follow 'every command' of Ciel Phantomhive.

"Very good," his hands caress the nape of my neck, making me shiver. They slowly slide up to the cloth tied around my head. It is slipped off easily, and I am blinded by the sudden ambush of brightness.

I blink rapidly as my world whirls for a while. As my eyes adjust to the light, I notice the room I have been confined to. Judging by the bare, stone walls and the cement floor, the room is some sort of basement.

It gives me a rather disconcerting sensation of being buried.

Then, Ciel Phantomhive steps into my line of vision, and for a moment all I can see is _him_.

**THE FAMOUS CIEL PHANTOMHIVE  
**_**He gazes at the dishevelled girl before him with a single, sapphire eye. The other is covered with a leather patch, for reasons unknown to most. Around his neck, a blue ribbon has been tied in a bow, matching his sole eye. With it, he wears a green, double breasted blazer with matching shorts. It is the perfect attire for a respectable young earl.  
**_

Overall, Ciel Phantomhive seems far too mature for a twelve year old boy. But that would be expected of an earl. I wonder if it affects him even now, having had his childhood ripped away from him. With no warning, he had been thrown into the big, wide world...No place for a child.

No place for me, either.

And that's when it hits me: _What the hell have I just done?_

* * *

Tada! Well, as always please feel free to leave feedback and next chapter will be back to 'present day' as such - No worries, I'll make up for all the lack of Sebastian in Chapter 5! ;)

~Ched~


	5. Chapter 5

**As a warning in advance: **I have named Mey-Rin Maylene. Yeah there's always a big huff over that, but Maylene sounds more English, and this is after all set in England.

Also, I'd like to say a** huge thank you** to those of you who have been kind enough to add me to your favourites/alerts, as well as those who have reviewed etc, I'm very grateful! And hell, anyone that's still reading this, I salute you!Also** the start of this chapter is a bit of a refresher** (describing Dream Land etc) just to get back into the 'present day' (as opposed to five months ago).

**Enjoy. :)**

* * *

**Chapter Five  
The Sixth Servant**

**THE WORDS OF CIEL PHANTOMHIVE****  
**_**You will become my maid. You will live in this house, and work with my servants. You shall carry out my every command, and protect me by any and all means necessary.**_

It's strange, just how quickly my world had been ripped apart then sellotaped back together again. It feels wrong on so many levels, the fact that I'm now the maid of Ciel Phantomhive. But at the same time, it feels right...Like it was meant to be.

Back then, I had two options: to embrace my new role, or to die. Needless to say, I accepted the former.

Which is why, five months later, I find myself scrubbing the already spotless floor of the Phantomhive Manor. But even though the pay is poor, the hours long and the work laborious, I don't mind. Whilst the work is hard, it doesn't require too much concentration. So, in order to survive what has become of my life, I can easily escape to my Dream Land.

So, as I sit on the floor scrubbing the wooden boards, I simply daydream.

I am in a different world...but on the same planet. I see everything everyone else sees, but through new eyes. It's like being on an LSD trip, perhaps: the colours are brighter, the music is nicer and the world is better. The pain disappears.

**SKYE RIVERSON'S DREAM LAND****  
**_**This is not a place where her mother and father are alive. No, that would be dangerous. The maid simply transports herself to a world where it doesn't matter that they are dead.**_

So it comes as a surprise when I am suddenly awoken from my half-slumber.

"Skye Riverson, what did I tell you about listening to music?" Tanaka says, looming over me. I take out my iPod earphones guiltily, and reluctantly drop the outdated blue Nano into his outstretched hands. "Sorry, Tanaka."

"Thank you" he says. He tries to be stern, but then laughs, transforming back to his usual nice-guy persona: "How long have you been doing this floor?"

"A few hours. Young Master told me to redo it" I sigh, my cheeks flushing from the chagrin of the whole ordeal. Tanaka gives me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, chuckling a little.

The butler and I got off to a rough start. Supposedly, drugging my soup didn't particularly help our relationship. But after a few days, I began to know him for the nice old man he is. He's like a grandpa to me now, in the Phantomhive family of servants. Although he's stern and strict when he has to be, he's utterly lovely (when you're doing your job properly, that is).

"Come down to the kitchen on your break, I hear Bard has made scones. Oh, and I have an announcement for all of you," he says to me before he hurries off to do whatever the Young Master has demanded of him.

.

As I wonder down the stone steps to the kitchen, my mind is in a different place; pondering what the message could possibly be. Usually, Tanaka gives us any notices before work, so what's up with this? It's obvious this has nothing to do with eating scones – if they're made by Bard, then that's just plain dangerous.

So it's with a confused mind that I enter the little kitchen, where everyone is already there. I walk across the stone floor to sit in one of the solid, ebony chairs at a table for six.

This table has always been for six, apparently. Back when there used to be six servants. But now there's simply five of us – we like to joke that we're _The Famous Five_:

1) Tanaka - of course,  
2) Maylene - my helpless maid partner,  
3) Finny - the only gardener, setting the world record for the most destruction of a flower garden in thirty seconds,  
4) Bard - probably the only employed chef in the country who can't actually cook, and  
5) Myself.

But the sixth seat has always remained empty, ever since I arrived - and probably long before that too. I've never asked who the sixth servant was.

Anyway sure enough, a dozen untouched, charcoaled scones are assembled on a platter in the centre of the table. Tanaka sits at the head, gazing sadly at all of us through his monocle. I begin to grow uneasy.

As I take my place next to Maylene, he stands up.

"I am the personal butler of Ciel Phantomhive," he begins gravely, "and it will come as no surprise that I am growing old. My age is hindering my performance – I can no longer serve the Young Master to the fullest."

Maylene gasps, "No! Tanaka please, you can't be saying-"

"Calm, Maylene. The Master has been incredibly forgiving in this situation. I have been given permission to stay here. However, it has come to the attention that I am no longer fit to be the private butler of Ciel Phantomhive. Skye already does half of my chores for me."

I look at him guiltily, "no, that's not true..."

"You are as modest as ever. I expect you would be promoted to the private servant of Ciel Phantomhive, however there are certain jobs you cannot do."

In other words, I am a girl.

"So, I have taken it upon myself to hire a new butler. He took a lot of finding, but I think I have found the perfect candidate for the job."

Tanaka leaves the room for a few minutes, whilst we all stare at each other. Finny is close to tears, as is Maylene (though it's hard to tell behind those thick, milk bottle glasses), and Bard and I are just incredibly shocked.

"Meet Sebastian Michaelis" Tanaka says grandly, and we turn around to see the black clad man at his side.

My heart drops.

**THE BLACK CLAD BUTLER BESIDE TANAKA**  
_**He is a handsome boy, and far taller than she. He has long, silky black hair – so long in fact, that he has resorted to tucking some strands of it behind his ear. But the most striking of his features are by far his crimson eyes. As they bore into Skye's deep blue ones, a devilish smile curves his lips.**_

Oh no. Oh, God no. Please tell me this is just a very, very bad dream.

Finny - being the classically excitable boy that he is - has jumped up to hug the newcomer (much to the latter's surprise). Bard has stood too, to shake his hand firmly. Maylene is rising also, curtsying politely – a light, rosy blush tinting her cheeks. But all the while he's just looking at me, sniggering slightly.

I take a deep, long breath and stand up, despite my legs feeling like some sort of desert. I bow my head to buy myself time to reassemble my features. When I look at him again, my face is an expressionless mask. Perhaps, if anything, I will seem rather uninterested by the whole commotion.

"Do you know Skye, Sebastian?" Tanaka enquires, noticing his looks in my direction. If the ground were able to swallow me whole, now would be a jolly good time.

"Why, yes. She is my English partner at school." He says, still sniggering a little. Mocking.

I glare, _"and you are the harassing weirdo sat next to me."_I'm dying to retort. But I don't, of course. I would never dream of being so outspoken. I am a maid, after all. Maids are invisible.

Tanaka notices the cold, tense atmosphere and chuckles, trying to lighten the mood: "Ah, looks like both of you will get on like a house on fire"

I begin to shake a little_…'house on fire'_. My breathing becomes shallow. I avert my gaze to the floor. Flashes of that night…Oh, God, why does this keep _happening?_

"Oh, Skye –" Tanaka says, realising with panic, "I'm so sorry, I forgot…That was careless of me"

"No, it's fine. It's not your fault. I'm sorry…I'm just...I'm just going to have a lie down for a while" I say, because I think I'm going to be sick.

I rush past the sixth servant with my head down, and practically run up the long, stone steps.

.

When I reach my room, I collapse onto my bed. It screeches in protest, but I ignore it and lie there, unmoving. Staring at the grey walls, I let a few tears escape before I wipe them away: _crying doesn't solve anything._

I reach for some sort of poetry book and begin to read. Ciel Phantomhive lets his servants borrow books from his library, saying that thousands of books aren't needed for one person. I smile. Although he can be an utter brat and completely terrifying, everyone knows he's a good kid, really. It's just hidden very, very deep inside of him.

As I sink into the rhythm of the poetry, I begin to calm down. I descend slightly into my Dream Land – just enough to keep me from losing it over what I can't change. My parents are blocked out of my life, and I slowly feel my eyes droop.

The book falls to the floor, and my consciousness falls with it.

* * *

Voilla - I bet you weren't expecting Sebastian eh? ;) Heheh jokes, jokes. Well, the story will be in full swing now. As always, please do review (what could I do better/done well?) even if it's just a short one I really could do with some feedback if that's cool :) I will see you next chapter!

~Ched.~


	6. Chapter 6

Okay, sorry this took so long to update! I did write a whole chapter, then deleted it because Sebastian was just too OOC for my liking. So, at long last, chapter six.  
Enjoy :)

* * *

**Chapter Six**  
**The Pits of Hell**

My long, piercing shriek of an alarm sounds at 6AM.

Rolling out of the tangled bed sheets, I stumble over to my wardrobe, blinded by the morning light. I squint at the calendar slung to the door: Today is a Sunday, meaning a full day's work.

Groan.

I mechanically pull on my maid uniform, which is the same as Maylene's: a knee length navy dress with a spotless white apron tied over the top. Everyone here dresses traditionally – including Ciel Phantomhive himself. Even the manor is still decked in Victorian décor.

I lace up my knee high boots and walk down the corridor until I reach the kitchen, which doubles as a servants' meeting room. As I take my seat next to Maylene I suddenly notice something. Something sitting at the other head of the table…

A black clad man by the name of Sebastian Michaelis.

Oh crap.

Somehow, I had completely forgotten about our new 'recruitment'. My mind had blocked him out - like a jump in some film due to a scratched disk. I cringe as he smiles pleasantly at me. So fake.

As I do every morning, I pour some green tea into everyone's cups (who knows what would happen if, God forbid, Finny got hold of this china?). Even the sixth cup is filled.

But when the announcements are made, it is not Tanaka who stands to give them. It is Sebastian.

"Well, today is going to be a lot of work. Young Master has a guest arriving tomorrow evening. So, Bard: you will prepare the day's dinner. Finny: you will weed the grounds. Maylene: you shall finish the laundry and dust the corridors."

I cover a snigger with the back of my hand. Does he honestly expect this lot to be able to do all that? I make a mental note to check up on them more than usual today.

"Skye: you shall clean the china in the cabinets and polish the banister of the stairwell." He gazes at me politely. I half nod to show my comprehension. "With that being said, let's get to it."

Everyone jumps up, moving out of the room to do their various duties. I make my way over to the stove and begin to boil some water for the Young Master's tea; something I do every day. I sieve the hot water through some Earl Grey tea leaves. I watch it dribble into an elaborately decorated teapot, and then wait for a few minutes for the flavours to blend.

As I wait, I turn to Tanaka, who is still sitting, sipping his green tea. He surveys me over the brim of his cup.

"How are you, Skye?"

"I'm okay" I say, twisting my lips into a particularly pathetic excuse for a smile. It's too early in the day to actually hide the fact that: a) I do not want to be here, and b) Sebastian Michaelis is the personification of mockery; my own personal Satan, come to make my days here just that little bit worse.

"Have a nice day, Tanaka" I say, hoping it sounds more genuine than my smile. I take a tray of fresh milk, tea, sugar and tea in the Wedgwood china set, and make my way up to the Master's bedroom.

As I reach Ciel Phantomhive's door, I wonder if Sebastian has already made the tea – after all, he did not request for me to do so. _Whatever, _I think, _it's not like he owns me. _My knuckles give two soft knocks on the door.

"Enter"

I push open the door, careful not to bash the tray on the doorframe. My efforts are nearly wasted, however, when I notice that Ciel Phantomhive is stood on a stool half undressed. Sebastian is changing his clothes.

"My Lord," I cough quietly to gain his attention. "I brought your morning tea." I avoid eye contact with both males and set the tray down on the bedside cabinet.

"Skye," The Earl asks for my attention, and I turn hesitantly to look at him; immediately regretting it.

There are dozens and dozens of thin, white scars running haphazardly across his body. They glisten against the boy's already snowy complexion, and I can't help but pale at the sight of them..._What has happened to this boy?_

The Young Master looks down his nose at me, "Have you never seen a boy's chest before?" I gulp. In fact, he's right. My parents had always kept me out of the way of other children. I was home schooled, and kept in my bedroom during the extravagant parties they threw.

Phantomhive is looking at me, trying to gage some sort of reaction. Sebastian meanwhile is not watching me, but I can see a hint of a smile on his lips. Mocking my fluster, of course.

"Forgive me." I say, looking away from them as Sebastian buttons the Master's shirt. "I have prepared some Earl Grey tea, my Lord." I pour the bronze liquid into the tea cup with shaking hands, and try to regain my composure.

"Good," he says uncaringly. Brat. I bow my head and curtsy, making my way to leave. The image of his body still burns my eyes, etched into my pupils. The sooner I get out of this room the better.

"Wait there," Phantomhive says. So I wait, still facing the door. The boy steps down from his stool and I hear him make his way over to me. Shuddering, the memories of my night in the basement five months ago sneak into my mind.

He stops behind me, and leans over my shoulder. I feel his breath tickle my jaw softly as he whispers into my ear: "don't forget about our...little agreement. I could place a bullet into your skull so fast it isn't even remotely amusing." His finger traces my neck as he says it, sending a shiver coursing through my body. Noticing this, he gives one smug laugh and releases the invisible binds fixing me to him.

I fumble with the doorknob and stumble out of the room, rushing down the corridor. Gasping for air, I collapse against a wall and attempt to calm my heart, which appears to have migrated to my throat. For some reason I want to cry, Phantomhive's words are starting to send me into a cold sweat.

Closing my eyes, I rest my head on the wall. _Breathe in...Breathe out...Breathe in...Breathe out._

I wrestle with the wave of nausea surging through my body. I try and try and try to sink into the analgesia of my Dream Land. But it is an impossible task.

Groaning, my head falls into shaking hands, and I pull my knees into my chest. I sit there for an immeasurable amount of time, in a hazy black world. It's not my Dream Land...But it's close.

"Are you going to do any work today, Skye Riverson?" a voice crawls into my dark bubble of vague, twisted reality. I don't reply. Something at the back of my mind is telling me the voice belongs to Sebastian Michaelis. I still don't reply.

He sighs and I feel him sit next to me, "My my, what on Earth did he say to you?" he asks. _Like I'm going to tell you, of all people. _

He gives one laugh at my silence, "very well."

For thousands of seconds we just sit there. I feel him watching me, but my face stays hidden behind my hands. But eventually I feel a light pressure on my back...his hand. Is this his attempt at sympathy, or is he mocking me?

Yet either way, it still feels good. It feels nice to know there's someone here with me in this hell.

Some say there are nine pits of hell. One for a different sort of evil. As I sit in my dark semi Dream Land, I wonder which one I shall spend eternity in. I run through them in my head: the lustful, the gluttonous, the sorcerers...But where would I go? I suppose the 6th Circle: Heresy.

**The Sixth Level of Hell: The City of Dis  
**_**Here lies fields full of distress and torment, littered with burning tombs. Inside these flaming sepulchres suffer the heretics, failing to believe in God and the afterlife. The three infernal Furies stained with blood, with limbs of women and hair of serpents, dwell in this circle of Hell.**_

I shudder. That is where I will be. But who could blame me? Everything about my existence rejects the idea of an omnibenevolent God.

I feel my eyes begin to grow heavy as I become more engrossed in my thoughts. Sebastian's hand is warm and comforting...I lean in to feel more of him.

He smells interesting...Like some sort of spice. Perhaps he has been cooking? I don't have the strength to ask him. Why am I so tired? I suppose sleep wasn't particularly replenishing last night. For some reason it was particularly difficult to fall into the realm of slumber.

"Did you know your parents well?" he asks quietly, out of the blue. _Tanaka _I mentally curse tiredly. _Tanaka must have told him after the 'house on fire' incident._

"No. But I know they were good people," I mutter after a while, hazy from sleep.

It's my favourite part of the day, sleeping. I love being able to crawl under my duvet and embrace the hazy land of dreams. Being able to forget about everything for several hours and just lie there with my thoughts...it's such a beautiful thing, taken for granted by many.

A strangely welcoming sensation is coursing through my blood at the moment: sleep. Oh, how much I want to embrace it...It's soft tentacles are wrapping around my body...

I fall into the raven's lap and let the light drain out of my vision. I feel his fingers caress my face so lightly I'm not even sure if it's him or my imagination. My eyes shut off, blinding me...but my ears are still dully aware.

"You are a fool, Skye Riverson," the raven murmurs.  
_**  
**_

* * *

*dramatic.* Ah now, why is Skye a fool? D: Also, did anyone else notice my reference to six ALL THE TIME? 6th pit of hell, 6am, 6th servant. Cor, didn't even notice that myself. Creepy, eh? Devils number, oooh. So yeah, review and stuff. I enabled anonymous reviews yesterday, so you can write all the hate you like yayyyy ;D

See you next chapter!

~Ched.~


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**  
**Fabled **

Monday, 7.12 AM

I roll out of bed and stumble over to the wardrobe, robotically pulling on my school uniform.

**THE ST. CHARLES SCHOOL UNIFORM_  
__Every girl wears a fitted black blazer, a short grey skirt and a sapphire ribbon tie around the collar of a snowy white blouse._**

The only thing different about my uniform is a sneaky leather holster attached to my midnight blue thigh high socks, hidden by my skirt. It holds a slick, silver pistol.

But the loaded death device does not feel unnatural, slung against my thigh. For the last five months it has simply been a necessity: something in which Ciel Phantomhive insisted upon. Just in case.

I sling my long, dirty blonde hair over to one side and tease it into a plait. I tie my brogues and grab a satchel, throwing in the needed books for today. I cringe at my English book, knowing that I will have to face Sebastian for a whole hour today at _least_. I try to shove my art journal into my bag too, but it's too big. I sigh and resort to carrying it instead as I make my way down the corridor.

When I enter the kitchen, three other servants are already there. Maylene is buttering some toast, Finny is eating a bowl of Cornflakes and Bard is...well...

"Bard, what are you doing?" I ask, as the blonde haired man takes a bag of bagels and a flamethrower out of the cupboard.

"Oh, err - " he stumbles, hiding the device behind his back, "nothing, Skye, nothing..."

I chuckle as I help myself to a slice of toast and a cup of tea. The flamethrower disappears back into the cupboard, along with its family of countless other destructive tools.

The rest of the servants do not go to school, as Ciel feels it unnecessary ("what would they learn that would be of any use to me?"). Instead the Earl simply lets us borrow books from the library, if we so desire to learn in our (very little) free time. I only attend school for his sake.

Then something hits me. Will Sebastian still go to school? If Ciel already has me then...

"Good morning," a pleasant voice reaches us from the doorway.

Sebastian Michaelis walks into the room, clad in a black blazer, navy tie, waistcoat and black trousers; the typical St. Charles uniform. Why do I feel such a sense of relief? I frown to myself. Surely the fact that he is still attending school should make me annoyed...but it doesn't.

"Good morning, Sebastian" the other servants mumble as he pours a glass of orange juice.

Finishing off my toast and downing the dregs of tea, I pick up my satchel and bid the others a good day. I make my way up the stone steps, out of the basement of a kitchen and into the corridor. I go out the back door and walk along the path to the front of the house, where I sit on my usual bench to wait for Ciel.

The Young Master only permits me to call him Ciel when in the presence of other students, so that we may keep up the pretence that we are family. I laugh to myself at the obscenity of it – us, related? What a joke. But people believe it.

I have come out to wait for him far too early, but I don't mind. I lean my head back and let my face bathe in the morning sunlight. Sinking into my Dream Land, I allow a sense of tranquillity to wash over me for one minute...two minutes...three...four. I'm almost asleep, until I hear something...A noise? What is -

I pull out my pistol and dig it into the neck of the figure looming over me. My senses are immediately awoken, and every nerve is tingling. My fingers rest on the trigger as my eyes adjust so I can see the attacker's face. I gulp.

"Oh come now, is this how you treat all of the servants?" Sebastian Michaelis asks pleasantly.

"Are you trying to get yourself shot?" I snap, thrusting the gun back into its holster.

"Are you trying to get yourself _caught_?" Remarks Ciel Phantomhive, staring down at me in distaste. He too is dressed in the St Charles attire.

"Of course not, my Lord." I apologise through gritted teeth, which earns a smirk from Sebastian. I act like the whole situation is already out of my mind, and begin to walk down the lane to school. The others follow.

After walking for a few minutes, Ciel breaks the silence.

"We shall have to come up with a suitable reason as to why Sebastian is walking with us." he says, troubled.

"Can't he be our cousin?" I ask.

"No...The school would find out. We can't just change his family record."

"A friend?" Sebastian suggests.

Ciel stays quiet for a few minutes, as though pondering the roll. Then, a smirk curves his features, and he slowly looks directly at me: "Or...a _boy_friend".

I almost choke on my own saliva, "I don't see how that's necessary," I say bluntly.

"Yes my Lord, I too do not see the convenience..."

"Why would a 'family friend' walk us to and from school every single day?"

Sebastian and I both remain silent, subtly glaring at each other. Ciel remains oblivious and continues voicing his plan.

"A _boyfriend_, however...That is a different story. Sebastian is simply so in love with Skye, that he feels it compulsory to ensure that she remains safe to and from school. It also works out well because it explains why Sebastian is suddenly hanging around with us between classes."

I silently fume, because Ciel has made an incredibly valid point, and I can think of no other alternative. Ciel flashes me a fake grin. _Is he _trying_to make my life a living hell?_

_Oh wait...Yes, yes he is._

.

As we come to the outskirts of the forest, Ciel murmurs "Skye, Sebastian...At least _try _to act convincing." And I look over at the latter, resentment burning my eyes. He simply smiles pleasantly and grabs my hand, entwining our fingers.

My heart suddenly lurches at his touch, and I feel heat rush to my cheeks. I've never been touched so..._affectionately_by a boy before. Well, I've never really been touched by a boy, period. Sebastian smirks down at me.

As we walk across the school grounds, I feel everyone's eyes bore into us. From what I gathered on my first day here last week, Sebastian is not exactly unpopular at school. He's the sort that every girl fantasises about, but would never dare to actually date. I suppose his creepy, dangerous persona probably accounts for that.

_But he is handsome_, I grudgingly admit. Then I turn away, disgusted with myself. _What is wrong with me today?_

I take a deep breath and try to ignore the death glares I am receiving from dozens of jealous girls. I feel everyone's judgments on every part of my body and make a conscious effort not to cringe away.

"My, my, seems like this will cause quite a stir," Sebastian remarks, and hooks his arm around my waist, pushing me closer to him. I feel the hatred from the onlookers intensify, and shoot him a scowl.

"Watch it," I growl a warning into his ear, disguising it with a smile and a nuzzle against his neck.

He replies by smiling pleasantly, and carrying my art journal for me.

.

Each period goes by relatively uneventfully. I sink into my Dream Land and simply daze my way through each lesson.

For fourth period, I stand outside the art studio. This is only my second day back, (Ciel insisted that I start on a Friday: "get all of that new-kid business out of the way quickly, rather than have it drag out over a week.") so I haven't had an art class yet.

"Goo~d morning, students!" a feminine, sing-song voice coons from the doorway. I walk into the studio, ignoring the fact that it's the afternoon, not the morning.

I sit down at the back of the room, as far away from the red headed professor as possible.

**THE RED HEADED PROFESSOR**  
_**He stands at the front of the room, wearing a grey waistcoat, white shirt, red ribbon and a strikingly crimson coat. **_

"Class!" he (yes, _male_) smiles, revealing pointed teeth. "Are you ready to express your undying love for one of the most profound arts?" he asks dramatically.

"Yes, Mr. Sutcliff," the students reply in a monotone, clearly used to the strange man's antics.

"Well then, what are you waiting for? RELEASE YOURSELVES; you are free, free, free~! Embrace the nature of this splendid subject. Feel the clay, mould it into anything you so desire. Create something! Create something spectacular, children!" the bizarre she-male screams and spins in a circle until he collapses into a chair, fanning himself.

The class rise from their seats and drag their feet to get the various utensils needed for the lesson. I smile to myself in shock. I never expected St. Charles to have such a teacher.

I walk over to the side of the room and grab a couple of paintbrushes, a small canvas, some acrylics and a pot of water. Laying it down on my desk, I ignore the glares of the jealous girls. I sigh, wishing I could tell them that the whole thing with Sebastian is just an act. But I can't.

Sinking into my Dream Land, I begin to paint. Each second flies by, and I am simply engrossed in my own bubble of imagination. I only stop when there is a presence by my shoulder.

"Oh my God," A girl stares in horror at my painting.

I snap out of my haze and deliberately spill black paint over the canvas of two blood soaked bodies. My hands begin to shake and beads of sweat trickle down my forehead. _That's not my parents, that's not my parents, that's not my parents._

The bell rings and I dispose of the ruined canvas in the bin, and try to act like it never happened. But it's hard to ignore my sweaty palms and the girl's horrified glances in my direction as she speeds away from me as fast as she can, whispering into another's ear.

I almost walk straight past Sebastian, who leans against the wall outside the studio, lazily gazing at passers-by and oblivious to the whispers of various girls. His eyes lock with mine and he makes his way over to me, through the swarm of students.

"Do you feel unwell?" he asks with concern, noticing my state. I narrow my eyes, _fake_.

"What does it matter to you?" I ask.

The next thing I know, I am trapped against the wall of the corridor, with Sebastian's arms either side of me. The air is suddenly harder to breathe, and I fight a blush to glare at him. He leans in, and whispers into my ear.

"Skye Riverson, do at least try to seem convincing" he hisses. Then I feel a silent laugh against my neck "or we shall have to practice"

My face burns and I scowl with as much hatred as I can muster, my hand dying to reach under my skirt and pull out my pistol.

"Fine," I growl, and he takes my hand and we walk into the courtyard for lunch.

I frown as I sit next to him on a bench, _oh brilliant, so I have to eat with him too?_

We mostly eat in silence as I try to pretend like he's not there and sink into my Dream Land. But when the bell goes for fifth period, he doesn't get up to leave.

"You're not coming?" I ask, hoping that my voice doesn't betray just how much I want him not to come.

"No. The Young Master has a guest coming this evening; I need to make sure the others haven't destroyed the manor."

"Who's the guest?"

He stays silent for a while, perhaps deliberating whether or not to tell me.

"The Undertaker"

* * *

Why is the undertaker visiting, I wonder ;D Well, what do you think of their relationship? I wasn't sure if it would work but we'll see :) Chapter eight will be out sooner or later!

~Ched.~


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**  
**The Comeliest Corpses**

"Maylene, dust the corridors, Finny: prune the roses out front, Bard: prepare dinner for tonight, and Skye: prepare the drawing room and tend to the Master and his guest upon arrival" Sebastian instructs.

At 4:43 PM, all six of us sit at the kitchen table, receiving our orders to accommodate the Master's guest.

The Undertaker, according to Tanaka, is a man of many secrets. Ciel Phantomhive is no ordinary boy, I found out during the past five months. Spoilt, yes, but not ignorant. He has the entire market for toys and candies wrapped around his little finger. Oh yes, if there's one thing I can be certain of about Ciel Phantomhive: he is not one to be messed with.

So it's with agitation that I prepare the drawing room for the Undertaker and the Master. Why does the young boy want to meet with an undertaker? Perhaps the Young Lord has a far darker, twisted background than I thought.

I shake my head, clearing it of such thoughts. _Nonsense, _I reassure myself, _the boy is only of twelve years, he could not possibly have...No._

I chuckle at my far-fetched imagination and continue to polish the mantelpiece.

.

At the Phantomhive Manor, the servants work around a strict and precise time schedule. If a job is to be done by six o' clock, it will be done by six o' clock. Not a minute late.

So it's with great stress that I must organize the rest of the servants, in order to meet the precision of our schedule. Finny has destroyed half the rose beds; Bard has turned the kitchen a charcoal black; and Maylene...

"Maylene, how _did _you manage to screw up dusting the corridor, exactly?" I ask, baffled by the young maid on the floor, surrounded by broken china.

"I...I thought that I would dust behind the china cabinet, that I did" she mumbles.

I sigh, "of course you did" I mutter, bending down to help her up.

"What on earth is going on here?" Oh, right on time: Sebastian.

"You should be watching them closer" I warn him, "this isn't a phenomenon"

"I simply do not understand how this manor functioned before I arrived" he sighs, picking up the broken shards in one go. I roll my eyes behind his back.

As Sebastian turns on Maylene, she blushes a magnificent shade of scarlet "S-s-s-sorry, sir! I didn't mean to, that I didn't! It...It won't happen again!"

"Well," he sighs, "there's nothing we can do about it now. I shall order another china set this evening. But at the moment we have far more pressing matters to attend to: it's three minutes until the Undertaker arrives"

"Bard has destroyed the kitchen, and Finny has beheaded the roses" I tell him. Although it probably reflects negatively against my character, I can't help but revel at the sight of the Oh-So-Perfect-Butler finding something a challenge.

He stops and frowns for a short moment.

"Well, it's far too late now to cook a full dinner. So we shall simply go for the cream tea get-up instead. I can make some scones in time. There are some potted plants out back, we shall get Finny to move them out front, where the roses were. Skye, go help Finny, and Maylene, delay the carriage by a few minutes. I shall go and help Bard." he says, disappearing down the corridor.

I can't help but frown at how quickly he managed to sort out the situation. He sure doesn't struggle for long, does he? Tch.

"Maylene?" I ask the red headed woman, who's already beginning to rush down the corridor. She stops, and turns to give me her attention.

"...How will you 'delay' the carriage?"

"Oh" she says, with a grin which could only be interpreted as undeniably mischievous, "I have my ways."

.

Within exactly ten minutes, the roses have been replaced by flourishing potted plant life, and a dozen fresh scones have been baked.

An old, beaten carriage rolls up next to the manor at 6:07, 'delayed', as such.

Anyone else would have come in a normal car, but not this man...Perhaps he simply wishes to stay in touch with the Victorian era, like the Young Mater; he too often travels by carriage. The village has simply accepted the time-lagged bubble the Master has created for himself.

The Undertaker's carriage looks ancient and battered, yet it seems that the owner has somehow tried to make it prettier by covering some of it with flowers. But they are not the usual bright varieties; these flowers are a pure, snowy white. White lilies, white roses, white begonias...But there are also bloody red carnations, all twisted together with black bows. It looks like a hearse carriage; accept that I cannot see through the glass because it is too battered.

"Welcome," Sebastian bows as the back of the carriage opens.

The figure simply replies by giving a soft, eerie chuckle. As he emerges from the dark interior of his shabby carriage, I stifle a gasp as I take in the bizarre man.

**THE UNDERTAKER**_**.  
Most of his ageless face is veiled by a long, roughly cut mop of silver hair, which has been twisted to form plaits in random places. He covers his gangling frame with an oversized black robe and a crooked top hat. But the most noticeable thing about this man is not his black claws for fingernails, but the long, pink scar running over what little can be seen of his face.**_

I shiver at the change of atmosphere this strange, ageless man has created. It feels unnerving now, being outside. The sun has gone into hiding, so it feels suddenly darker, somehow. Like the light has been drained out of the sky.

"My Lord, it's so _lovely _to see you," the man has a peculiar accent I have never heard before. "Do I finally have the pleasure of fitting you for one of me coffins today?" I frown. What did he say?

"No," Ciel replies, in a dull, no-nonsense tone, "of course that isn't why I called you here today."

The Undertaker gives a soft, peculiar giggle "Why, of course...No need to say. I am already aware."

There is an uncomfortable silence as the one eyed boy simply looks at the eyeless man.

"Might I suggest you continue this meeting in the drawing room, My Lord?" Sebastian coughs, disrupting the silence.

The Master and his guest are lead into the drawing room. The Undertaker looks completely out of place in this cosy room. He looks like some sort of creature which belongs in some dark, windowless cabin. Although actually - now I think about it - he probably does live in a dark, windowless cabin; judging by his pale, sunless skin.

The Undertaker takes a seat in one of the over-stuffed chairs, and I fetch the tea and scones and set them on the table between the two males.

Ciel Phantomhive always struck me as a mysterious, creepy sort of boy. But he is nothing compared to the man seated opposite him. The Undertaker acts like a child sometimes, the way he giggles. But sometimes he acts so old and so...intelligent. The things he says...they unnerve me. I stand at the very edge of the room, by the door. Just in case.

"I apologise for bringing you out of your...uh...'office'. I trust you found the journey here satisfactory?" the younger boy starts.

"Why yes, I am unaccustomed to this travelling business...But I spent most of the journey in one of me coffins. It was quite enjoyable, felt like my own death parade, it did."

Did I hear him right? He...He spent the journey in a...Coffin? I laugh inwardly to myself. Must have heard him wrong – his pronunciation sure is unusual.

"I'm glad to hear that" Ciel coughs, seemingly out of awkwardness. He dollops some cream onto a scone, probably more for something to do with his hands, rather than because he was hungry.

"I suppose you wish to enquire about my latest guest?"

The boy chews his scone, swallows, then replies: "Yes, that would be correct. I gave you...'payment' the last time we met, I believe?"

"Why, yes" the man begins to giggle uncontrollably, trying to stifle it with his hand. The young boy glares at him. "Sorry...Sorry...just-" he collapses into a fit of giggles again.

I study him in confusion. None of this conversation is making sense to me.

"If you are quite finished" the boy spits, when the man has recovers himself.

"Hee hee...Yes, yes. I am ready. I will tell you everything you need to know."

"Speak, then." the boy drums his fingers on the arm of his seat.

"Well. There was two of 'em. They came in, and to anyone else they would have been such..._unattractive _customers. The rotting flesh, the mangled bodies...Ah, but it was a feast to _my_ eyes. However I did not indulge. I prefer the more comeliest of corpses."

My head hurts. I must be hearing the strange man wrong...I must be coming down with something. But...But I'm sure he said _'rotting flesh' ..._and was that _'corpses'_ I heard?

"So...they had been absent of life for a while, then?"

"Yes...Indeed, months even. But that was no matter for me. I helped, I did. I made them beautiful again. And, my...They were the most divine corpses I have ever seen."

"Do you know the cause of their death?"

There is no doubt that they are definitely talking about the dead. Why is Phantomhive talking about such a thing? I am uncertain if I should be in this room. Did the boy expect me to leave? We are usually supposed to stay in the room unless dismissed, though...

"Their lungs were filled with gasses which do not belong in lungs"

"Suffocation" Ciel mumbles, frowning into the hearth, deep in thought.

"Indeed."

The two remain silent for a short while, accept for the Undertaker's long, loud slurps of tea.

After a few minutes, Sebastian enters the room. He walks over to the fireplace and adds some logs. "Is there anything either of you desire, my Lord?"

"No...We are quite fine" the Master murmurs, still deep in thought. Sebastian sinks into the shadows of the room like a ghost. I suppose if he is here, then I am supposed to be here too. I gulp, and destroy the thoughts of my own past, and stop listening to the meaning of these exchanged words.

"I wonder why they chose to suffocate them?" he asks the Undertaker.

"Yes~...Indeed, I thought that too."

"And they weren't burned in the fire?"

"No, that was most peculiar...they were in the forest."

"So why start the fire if it wouldn't destroy the evidence?"

"Indeed, it is quite the enigmatic occurrence." The Undertaker leans in with anticipation. Is it just me, or is he enjoying this mystery?

"Do you have any idea of the killer? This could not have been natural."

"Haven't the foggiest, little boy" the 'little boy's eyebrow twitches, "...But I do have an idea on the motive."

"Oh?" he too leans in closer, so that they are just inches away from each other.

"Jealousy" The Undertaker whispers, so quietly I have to strain to catch his words. I know I shouldn't be listening in, but I can't help myself.

Phantomhive gives one dismissive laugh, leaning back into his chair, "And what makes you think such a thing?"

"The two were newlyweds," the Undertaker says, and leans back in his chair to observe the boy's reactions.

Surprise floods his features, and he quickly disguises it with an expressionless mask. "Well, jealousy is still a far-fetched claim, don't you think? We have no evidence other than that one slip of information."

"Well, there is one way to find out."

"Oh?"

"On the social grapevine, me ears have been picking up things...Things about a woman named 'Madame Red'. She achieved the nickname because she is clad in nothing but a bloody red. Ohh, I can't wait to give her one of me coffins – I know just the one: red velvet, filled with roses and-"

"Undertaker, please." Ciel cuts him off, disgustedly.

"Oh- oh, yes" the man giggles quietly, "got side tracked...The point is, this 'Madame Red' was a jolly good friend of the husband."

"What does that have to do with it?"

"It has everything to do with it. Because she wasn't at the wedding."

A smile creeps into the Phantomhive's face, realization spreading his lamp-lit features. "Well then, looks like we shall have to speak with...'Madame Red'."

* * *

[[side note: Madame Red is not Ciel's aunt in this fanfic.]]

Voilla! Sorry about all the dialogue, I know this isn't the best of chapters - but this is all going to come to a very good end I promise! This is a mystery after all ;D I hope I did the Undertaker's character justice? See you next chapter!

~Ched.~


	9. Chapter 9

Ehh...Had some major writers block -_- But at last, Chapter Nine! Please bear with me :)

* * *

**Chapter Nine**  
** Secrets of a Scarlet Lady**

It takes just two days for Ciel Phantomhive to learn every single detail, insignificant or otherwise, about the lady in red. Everything from her height to her job to her philosophical views, he has memorised. Like a cunning serpent, stalking its prey: he is ready.

Because if the world were a room, the Earl of Phantomhive would have the famous 'Madame Red' pinned in a corner. Tied to a chair, maybe – or strung from shackles...But the overall point is the same: she is completely and utterly trapped.

So two days after the Undertaker's visit, she rolls up in a crimson carriage; right into the serpent's mouth. She unfolds herself from the carriage.

**THE FAMOUS MADAME RED  
**_**She is, of course, doused in crimson: her eyes, her lips, her hair; her skirt, her waistcoat, her hat...The only relief from this blood stained body is a white, ruffled blouse and some black gloves. **_

"Welcome, Madame" Sebastian bows, and takes a leather suitcase from her hands.

Her heels click on the ground, and she stops to survey the group of servants and the Young Earl awaiting her.

"You must be Ciel Phantomhive," the lady assumes, talking to the best dressed of all of us.

"That would be correct. Do come inside, Madame" he motions, and everyone follows him up the steps and into the manor.

"I trust you know why you are here?" the Earl asks.

"To check up on your servants, no? Which room may I use?" she asks.

The crimson lady had refused to have a formal meeting with anyone. But she is a doctor, so Ciel Phantomhive simply asked for her to do a health check on the servants. She obliged. As a doctor, she is available. As Angelina Durless, she is not.

"Through here," the boy motions to one of the small libraries, "I trust you will find this adequate?"

She surveys the small room, which has already been filled with a desk and two chairs. Some weighing scales also sit on the floor. "This will do," she says, and Sebastian sets the suitcase down by the door.

"If you could wait outside, I shall set up and call you in individually, yes?" she asks us, and we nod in unison, walking out of the room.

When the door shuts, Phantomhive looks and all of us meaningfully "just do what I asked you to, okay? Meet me in the kitchen later." and he walks up the stairs to his office, leaving all of us.

The boy has planned this with exact precision. We all have questions to ask the doctor. Mine is to ask her about her love life...Not exactly the easiest of options.

As we line up outside the room, my heart begins to beat faster with nerves. I am one of the last servants to be checked up.

Tanaka enters the room, and he stays in there for ten minutes. Tanaka doesn't have a question to ask her, he's supposed to just make small talk – we don't want to seem too curious. He leaves the room, gives us a knowing nod, and heads down to the kitchen.

Maylene enters second. She is in there for fifteen minutes, which is enough for us to give each other sideways glances of concern. But at long last, she leaves the room, shutting the door behind her quietly. She looks slightly pale, but seems to be fine as she too walks to the kitchen. I wonder what Madame Red could have told her about the victims' wedding.

Finny enters the room. It is just me, Sebastian and Bard now.

"I'm gunna go put the meat in the oven for dinner, I'll be back in a sec." Bard tells us and disappears down to the kitchen.

So it's just me and Sebastian.

"You look nervous," he smirks down at me, and I scowl. "Stop acting so scared or she'll get suspicious." I grit my teeth and try to pretend he's not there.

"Or are you nervous because you're with me?" he asks quietly, in what I hope is only _mock_ seriousness.

"Oh, please. Get over yourself," I spit. I'm not usually so outspoken, but I amon edge. However I can't help thinking that maybe Sebastian does have something to do with my sweaty palms and abnormally quick heartbeat.

"So your pulse doesn't quicken when you're with me?" he teases, leaning in so his face is just inches from mine. It's immediately harder to get oxygen out of the air.

I laugh, "I actually think it slowed," I lie, because my pulse is so loud I can hear it in my ears.

He laughs too and drops the conversation, stepping away from me so that I can actually breathe again. But then he catches me off guard and grabs my wrist.

"Hey," I glare, trying to earn a release from his iron grip. His fingers dig into my wrist, feeling what must surely be a raging pulse. I cringe.

He smirks. "Slowed, did it?" he mocks, and I glare.

"That's only because you're harassing me" I wrench my hand away from his. It feels disconcertingly bare without him clutching it.

"Of course" he says disbelievingly, with that smug smile on his face.

At that moment, Finny walks out of Madame Red's room, pulling his shirt back on.

"You're up" he says to Sebastian, and winks at us. But I can see that there is more than a hint of concern in his eyes. Did he manage to ask her his question? He was supposed to enquire as to the events she has been participating in over the past year.

I try to give him a 'Was-It-Okay?' look, but he avoids our gaze and heads down to the kitchen.

"Don't miss me too much, my love!" Sebastian mocks, and I shoot him a look of disgust. But as he disappears into the room, I can't help but notice that my head is no longer fuzzy and there isn't a strange feeling in my stomach anymore. Strange, huh...

Sebastian stays in the room for a long time. Bard comes back from the kitchen (his hair certainly more afro-like than it was before), and gives me a biscuit. We chew in silence as we try to calm our nerves.

Well, I say 'we', what I really mean is 'me'. Bard is unfazed – he doesn't have a question to ask Madame Red. Again, to avoid suspicion - but also to give us all time to evaluate if Madame Red is the culprit of the murder down in the kitchen. The idea is to get enough information today so that we can corner her and end this before she leaves.

Sebastian emerges from the room, buttoning up his white shirt again. I hate the way my heart beats faster as I set eyes on an ivory, well toned chest. _Pull yourself together!_ I avert my gaze before he can sneer at me again, and then give him an enquiring look. He nods once, then leaves for the kitchen.

I'm next.

I walk into the crimson lady's room, and shut the door behind me. I get the disconcerting feeling of being trapped. I turn to face Madame Red, who sits at the desk, reading some paper work. She seems paler than I remembered.

"Take a seat," she says, and I sit down in front of her desk.

"So, Skye Riverson," she surveys me with her chin resting on folded hands. Is it just my imagination, or is there worry in her eyes? "Tell me a little bit about yourself."

"Uh...Well..." I don't know where to begin.

"How did you arrive here?" She asks. I frown, why does she need to know?

"Skye, I am supposed to ensure your mental wellbeing too. Please answer my questions"

"My family..." I debate whether or not to tell her. But then I figure I might as well. How can I expect her to share private information with me, if I won't do her the same favour? "My parents were killed so I had to run away. I found myself here, and Ciel Phantomhive took me in as his maid" I leave out the part where he bound me to a chair and threatened to kill me.  
_**  
**_"Oh, how tragic," she says, and I can see there is definitely worry in her eyes now. Is that because of this or for a different reason? "What were your parents' names?"

"Um...my father was Edward Riverson and my mother's maiden name was Rosanna Brown" There is definitely a flash of something in her eyes now. Shock? I'm about to enquire if she knew them, but she interrupts with another question: "and what were your parents' occupations?"

"They were doctors" I say, confused. How does this ensure my mental well-being? Remorse; that is what is in her eyes. But then that look changes to determination. What?

"Well...Some things have to be done for the sake of progress, no?" she asks, so quietly I wonder if those words weren't meant for my ears. It only adds to my confusion.

"Uh...Did you know them?" I ask, trying to bring her out of her reverie (which, frankly, is creeping me out)

"No, no." She smiles, and for some reason I'm not entirely convinced. But why would she lie?

"Oh..." I say. There is an awkward silence. Then, I remember: my question. I am supposed to ask her about her love life. But how will I ask her? My brow furrows in concentration as I try to work out the best way to go about the situation.

"Is there something wrong?" she asks, noticing my troubled expression. Ah...What an excellent opportunity.

"Well...Yes." I say, feigning a more troubled persona.

"Oh?" she enquires, hinting for me to elaborate. I pretend to debate whether or not to tell her.

"Madame Red... Have you ever been in love?" I ask, frowning. Shock flashes across her face, and she slips:

"Yes." She regrets it as soon as it's out of her red painted lips.

"With whom?" I ask. She looks anxious but I persuade her to tell me: "women have to stick together, no? It would really help, to get another's advice" I fake a blush.

"Someone...Someone it shouldn't have been." She admits, her face flushing.

"Oh really? Same here...What did you do about it?" I ask, biting my lip to hammer up the teen-angst-because-I'm-so-in-love act.

"I...Something else came up, and I was forced to forget about my love for him" she says with a vacant expression. But then she adds in an undertone "for the sake of progress..."

Suddenly she snaps out of her musing and smiles openly, changing the topic. "Please remove your uniform and stand on the scales, so that I can weigh you." I suppose that's the mental wellbeing done then...Maybe she just read my body language or whatever.

She averts her gaze to some paper work whilst I undo the buttons on my dress and slip out of it, onto the scales. I wear just a light, creamy chemise undergarment (again, Ciel Phantomhive is a traditionalist, even in the uniform of his servants). But I am grateful; it makes the situation far less awkward as my skin is at least covered (however slightly) from this strange woman.

There is a knock on the door, and the crimson lady mumbles an "enter" before I hear the door open. I stay facing the wall, stood on the weighing scales. I wonder who it would possibly be...Have they already worked out that she is definitely the criminal?

"I brought you some tea, my Lady" My heart drops: it is Sebastian. Wait, what? _That little pervert, he knew jolly well I was in here half undressed! _I stay facing the wall, suddenly hyper alert to the fact that there is nothing but a very light dress covering my body - which still reveals most of my legs. I fold my arms to cover my breasts, which are on far too much show thanks to this damn undergarment. My face burns, and I'm not sure if it's out of anger or embarrassment.

"Ah. Thank you, Sebastian" she says, and I feel him pass me as he leaves, getting the horrible feeling that he is watching me. _I'm going to kill that bastard. _

The woman sips her tea then steps beside the scales to jot down the measurement. Apparently, she sees no problem with a male coming into the room whilst I have next to no clothes on. She measures my waist with a measuring tape, then pokes my ribs with her fingers, frowning.

"You are quite underweight," she proclaims, "It's more obvious without your uniform - I can see your ribs through this fabric..." her voice is concerned, "have you been eating well?"

"Yes."

"Three times a day?"

"Yes."

She smiles, "well, it's probably just hormones," she winks in an almost motherly fashion.

I smile back uneasily and step down from the scales, as Madame Red declares that I may put on my clothes. If only I could have put my uniform on just a couple of minutes earlier.

.

The doctor does a few more tests on my physical health, and then I leave the room. I signal for Bard to go in, then make my way down to the kitchens.

Soon, I stop fuming about Sebastian and am completely absorbed in my own thoughts about the conversation with Madame Red. So I have learned at least three things:

**THREE THINGS**  
_**1) Madame Red knew Skye Riverson's parents  
2) She fell into a forbidden love  
3) She was forced to ignore this love, 'for the sake of progress'**_

I shudder. What does all of this _mean_? Was her love anything to do with the victims of the murder, and why was it forbidden? And what's all this progress nonsense about?

She has such a gore spattered past...so tainted with sin. She has an unnerving atmosphere about her, with those mood swings nearly giving me whiplash. So what could this blood stained lady possibly have to do with my parents?

* * *

Tada! Review please? :P I'm not really sure how the mystery aspect is working - I'm not used to being subtle! See you next chapter - it's a school one for the most part, I think. :)

~Ched.~


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks a lot to everyone who reviewed! All shall be revealed soon :)  
Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Ten**  
**Blackthorne**

I am thoroughly confused when I enter the kitchen, where everyone is already conversing over the happenings of today. Ciel Phantomhive sits at the head of the table, looking completely out of place in a room designed for servants.

"What did you find out, Skye?" Sebastian enquires. I glare at him: _don't think I haven't forgotten about you walking in on me. _He looks back nonchalantly. I push that out of my mind, and focus on the real issue at hand.

I draw up another chair to the table, and begin to tell them about the love life of Angela Durless. But I tell them nothing about her strange reactions to my parents.

"That makes sense." Sebastian states when I'm finished, deep in thought. "That fits in perfectly with what Maylene found out about marriage"

"What else did you all find out?" I ask, and Sebastian gives me the overview, shamelessly holding eye contact with me:

"She basically confirmed that she didn't go to the wedding of the two victims. However she said it's because she didn't get along with them – Maylene doesn't think it was out of jealousy. However what you said about her love life...that shows that it _is _jealousy. We found out that she went on a business trip last year, which was a touchy subject for her. I am going to research what the business trip was, according to the dates and places Finny found out."

"So...did she murder them?"

Phantomhive sighs, "we don't know. We're no closer to the answer than we were this morning"

"That's not true," Maylene pipes up. "If our research is correct, then that 'business trip' will give us more information."

"Yes, I think that is correct. We will need another few days to come up with a definite accusation." Sebastian says.

"She kept saying something to me...Something about 'the sake of progress'. That leads me to assume that the victims where preventing her from doing something...If she indeed was referring to them." I mention.

"I...I found out something which would support that" Finny says quietly, "I recognise her. I recognise her from the...'human experimentation' I went through before I came here"

"What? Finny, you've met her before?" Sebastian asks urgently,

"No. I just heard them speak of her, through a code name: Red."

"How do you know it's her?" Sebastian asks, unconvinced.

"Because they also said things about progress."

"So...That business trip..." I trail off, not sure how to phrase it.

"...Was a human experimentation project. Yes, I think so" says Finny.

"But how can we confirm that?"

"I found out something which may be of use," Tanaka stands, and we all turn to face him. "She was a doctor at St Charles a few months back."

Realization floods into Sebastian's face. "Do you think there will be any documents of hers on the school database? Or the nurse's computer?"

"I have reason to believe there could be, yes" Tanaka says.

"Well then. Looks like we'll be going to school this week." Ciel says, a mischievous smile curving his lips.

.

.

By Friday, I have confronted Sebastian about the walking-in-on-me-half-undressed incident (to which he retorted mockingly "it would only matter to you if you had feelings for me". At which I replied by throwing everything within arm's length at him).

But more importantly, we have a full plan of what we will do in order to maintain the information about Madame Red.

"Sir" I gaze at my English teacher, my face pale and drenched with sweat (or water from my water bottle. Same thing.) "I...I don't feel so good..."

"Oh...Miss Riverson...Good Lord, yes – go to the nurse's office," he replies worriedly. As I stand shakily, Sebastian stands too. Of course, the over-protective boyfriend is in full swing.

I stumble out of the door after fumbling with the handle. We rush down to the nurse's office, as quickly as we can without being suspicious. If Sebastian is right, the nurse goes on a break any moment now.

We reach the office just as the nurse disappears down the other end of the corridor. I smile: _thank God. That was lucky. _

Sebastian slowly pushes the door open. We freeze, me surveying the corridor and him checking the office. Hopefully, Ciel is distracting the secretary enough, or we're screwed because there is CCTV_ everywhere_. Really, is there no trust in this school?

Oh wait. I guess not, seeing as three students are already trying to hack into the computers.

"Clear."

I enter the office, and Sebastian begins to tap into the computer, immediately accessing Madame Red's emails in the trash section. We give each other a look of surprise, but also confusion. Surely...Surely that was far too easy.

"Bingo" he murmurs, having found every email to and from Angela Durless, to a company named 'Blackthorne'

"How do we know..." I trail off, because he has just opened the first email. I need only read the first line to feel sick.

**A MESSAGE FROM BLACKTHORNE  
**_**Dear Angela Durless, it has come to our attention that you wish to join our ranks here at the human experimentation camp...**_

"So Finny..."

"...Was right, yes." Sebastian prints off the emails to and from 'Blackthorne' with a flourish of the mouse, and within minutes, we're out of the office, emails in hand.

"Sebastian..." there is something uneasy in the pit of my stomach.

"Yes?"

"Don't you think...Don't you think that was far too...easy?"

He smiles devilishly, and once again I suddenly find myself trapped by his arms against the wall of the corridor, which is now deserted. I frown at him, fighting a blush.

"Skye Riverson," he murmurs into my ear, "do you really think I would be stupid enough to fall into a trap?"

I fight for air, "yes!"

He chuckles, and then slowly kisses my neck. His mouth makes its way up to my jaw, so gently that I can't help but stare to ensure that it's really happening.

"Sebastian" I glare, trying pathetically to push him off.

"What about now?" he whispers into my ear. I try to put up a solid fight, but he's so...Distracting.

"Okay fine, fine! You're not stupid enough to fall into a trap!" I gasp, hating the way my heart is beating so much faster because of his touch.

I feel his lips smile on my neck and, as suddenly as it started, the moment is over.

"Good, well then we shall meet Ciel by the school gate, as planned" he says, as the bell for the end of the day rings. Students begin to flood into the corridors and he walks away. I catch up with him, scowling. _Why does he have so much control over me?_

.

"Did you find anything?" Ciel asks, as we reach the deserted forest on the way home.

"Yes. She was definitely involved in the human experimentation Finny was talking about," Sebastian reports gravely.

Ciel takes the emails out of Sebastian's school bag and begins to flick through them, his eyes widening.

"Wow. There's a lot here - even a list of member names. You did well to..." he trails off, and stops right in his tracks.

"Skye...what are your parents' names?"

"Edward Riverson and Rosanna Brown...Why?"

Ciel looks up from the documents, his face pale.

"No...No, this isn't happening" I mutter, my legs growing weak as I snatch the list away from his hands. I grow dizzy as my eyes set on two names.

**MEMBERS OF BLACKTHORNE  
**_**Brown, Rosanna...  
****Riverson, Edward**_

"No...No way. It's a set up. My parents wouldn't have been involved in this. These emails were far too easy to retrieve...it must be...It's not real!" I scream, and the papers are gracefully gliding down to the floor as they escape from my hands.

_But my parents were good people._

My legs collapse and I'm on the path, my head in my hands.

_You're a fool, Skye Riverson. _Sebastian's words that time, just before I had fallen asleep in his lap. They feel like a slap across the face.

"You knew. You knew they were...were bad people." I gasp at him, realization flooding my face.

"Yes, I did."

"What...How? How could you possibly know they were involved in Blackthorne?"

"I didn't know about Blackthorne. I did a background check on all the servants when I started work, and your parents have a criminal record."

_Why is everything around me being destroyed? My parents were the one true thing I had left, and they lied to me?_

"It makes sense, Skye" Ciel says quietly, "why else would you have been taught about pressure points and shooting? There are people who rebel against this sort of organization. They were preparing you."

"No. Oh God no." I whisper. It's all so clear now: The reason why I was locked in my bedroom when they held social gatherings...It was to protect me from any possible rebels of Blackthorne.

"Is that why they were killed?" my throat is dry, my mind is numb.

"Rebels...That would be perfectly logical" Sebastian admits quietly.

"That's why I could escape? They didn't know I even existed, because they kept me in my room when they had parties?" I cry.

"It makes sense." Ciel says quietly, in a matter of fact tone.

"This...This doesn't even have anything to do with the victims' murder..." I murmur. This isn't getting us any closer to finding the answers to their death. All this is doing is ripping up everything I used to know.

I think they're still talking, but I don't care. I do the only thing I can do, and try to escape to my Dream Land; or at least something like it. _Breathe in...Breathe out...Breathe in...Breathe out..._

As I fall into a choking black haze, there is just one final image in my mind:

_"Stay under the bed and stay alive." My mother whispers as she hugs me tight, before grabbing her pistol and running out of the room. "Mum?" I whisper._

_But she's gone._

Who were my parents, really?

* * *

Oh lordy, a turn of events eh? So Madame Red is involved with the murdering of those two victims AND the human experimentation of Finny? Blimey, what a woman...And Skye's parents! Talk about family issues...

Review please? I'm hoping there aren't tonnes of loop holes in this plot O_o

See you next chapter for more secrets ;)

~Ched.~


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**  
**Skies Turn Different Colours**

I sit up, muffling a long, piercing scream with a pillow. I am drenched in sweat, the result of the least relaxing night of sleep I have ever had. There was a time where sleep was my favourite thing to do. But tonight, my dreams were positively horrid.

_Knock, knock._

There is a soft tapping at the door. I wonder who it-

"Skye? I'm coming in" It is Sebastian.

The door creaks open, allowing a band of light to blind me. I hug my knees and hide my face in my hands.

"What happened?" he asks, sitting on the bed beside me. I'm not sure why, but I tell him the truth; he has a way of making me do that (tch).

"I...I had the most awful dream" I whisper into my hands.

"What was it about?" He pushes.

"I...found out that my parents were..." I choke on my words, because I'm scared to even say it out loud. "They were part of some human experimentation scheme." A wave of nausea washes over me, the dream is replaying itself in my mind. It was so vivid that it was almost real...

And then it clicks. Slowly, slowly...I raise my head to look at the man opposite me. "No" I breathe, "no, please tell me it was just a dream" there is an indescribable weight in the pit of my stomach, tugging at all of my insides painfully.

He just looks at me, with this pitying gaze. Why isn't he teasing me? Why isn't he making fun of me, because I am so weak to be fooled by dreams? Oh, no. No, no, no.

_Because it isn't a dream._

I stumble to my feet and stagger into the corridor, running as fast as I can to the bathroom. I slam the door behind me and make it just in time to vomit into the basin. I stare in shock before my shaking hands snap into action and twist the tap to wash away the fowl smelling mixture.

I raise my eyes to the mirror, and see a different person staring back. Her eyes are sunken and filled only with sadness. There is no colour in her face, just a white stretch of skin. Her long, dirty blonde hair is matted and chaotic as though it hasn't been brushed for weeks. She is very different to me, yet she is the same. When she frowns, I frown; When I cry, she cries. That girl in the mirror is undoubtedly me.

My legs collapse from underneath me. "Oh...God..." I murmur into my hands.

"Skye? Skye are you okay?" Sebastian is knocking on the door urgently. Is he...Is he worried about me? How strange. That is unlike Sebastian.  
"Yes" I croak. "Yes, I am quite fine" I run my thin fingers through my thick hair, then pinch the bridge of my nose. I feel a headache approaching.

"No, you're not. I'm coming in." He doesn't ask for permission, he just enters. The butler is wearing his uniform, even now at this ungodly hour. He crouches beside me and peers at me with concern. "You seem quite unwell". _No shit, _I think.

He sighs as I ignore him and burry my head in my hands once more. I feel him sit beside me, and we just stay like that for a while. It reminds me of the last time we did this, and I fell asleep in his lap. I shiver, his last words bringing back unwanted memories: _you're a fool Skye Riverson._

Suddenly, I feel something draped over my shoulders. His jacket. I smile; he had misread my shiver for being cold.

"Do you wish to talk about it?" he asks quietly. I shake my head. "Is there anything I can do?" he presses. Ah, of course. I am a problem that needs to be solved.

I stop, and think for a moment. Then, very slowly, I lean in to his side so that my head rests against his shoulder. It helps, somehow. It helps to have someone else with me.

"This is going to sound bad..." I start, unsure how to phrase my wish.

"Go on," he urges.

"When...When we have a case against Madame Red..." I let my sentence trail off, thinking before I say something rash. But I can think of no other way to tell him.

**SKYE RIVERSON'S REQUEST**  
_**It is so quietly spoken that the raven haired man beside her has to strain to hear. But the words she utters are definite: "Can I kill her myself?"**_

I feel Sebastian tense beside me. No doubt, he was not expecting such a request.

I continue, "I would want to question her first, of course. She knew my parents. It would just...Just feel like I've helped them, somehow...If I kill her."

I'm not sure what has come over me. Why do I want to help my parents? They were bad people who were involved in Finny's torture, as well as countless others.

But they were murdered all the same...And they were my family. They still _are_ my family.

I'm not sure how killing Madame Red helps. But for some reason, it does. Killing someone who knew them, who was involved in the organization which resulted in their deaths...It helps me, somehow.

"Are you sure? Once you have murdered someone..." he starts.

"I'm sure."

"Very well" he agrees.

I do not feel much pleasure at the fact that I am allowed to murder a member of Blackthorne. I just feel some sort of satisfaction. Is this who I am now?

.

Madame Red arrives at the manor the next day.

"Good evening, Madame Red. " Ciel welcomes her, as she unfolds herself from her carriage.

I have to admit that the scarlet lady looks far worse for wear than I remembered. Her bold crimson clothing has only drowned out her pale skin, which seems to be stretching across her features painfully. Her eyes are gaunt and sunken, as though she has not slept. _Well, _I think bitterly, _I suppose being involved with the torture of innocent people does that to you. Not to mention murdering two people._

It is certain now: Madame Red murdered the newlyweds. The two victims of the murder Ciel was originally researching were, in fact, members of Blackthorne. Upon their old corpses was the Blackthorne tattoo. But you see, this only further confused us. Why would she want to murder people in her own organization?

We have many questions to ask her.

"Come now, Earl. Let's not pretend about the reason I am here" she says bitterly. I wonder why she came, if she knew what was going to happen to her. But then I shudder; it only takes one look at Sebastian to understand.

"As you wish. Follow me" the Young Master replies in the same tone, and we walk up to the house in silence.

.

"So, Angela Durless – the infamous Madame Red," Ciel begins, taking on the role of judge in this  
homemade courtroom "Were you involved with Blackthorne, the human experimentation organization?"

"I was," She says, dully. I suppose that having a gun to your head makes you answer questions like this. I can't help but smile a little at the irony of Sebastian carrying a gun; I have no doubt he would be able to end her life just with his bare hands.

"And did you murder two people in your organization?"

"Yes" She says, "but that was quite a while ago. I don't see why it has been bought up now"

"The bodies were only found recently. Apparently you hid them rather well." She smiles at that, like it was a compliment. "So, when did you murder them?"

"A few months ago now, I suppose." She says casually.

"Yes, the Unertaker did say they looked..." Ciel pales, "well, anyway. Why did you kill them?"

"For the sake of progress" she whispers.

"Excuse me?"

"For the sake of progress!" she yells, "they were rebelling against Blackthorne from right under our noses!" Her eyes are darting around the room manically. A slick band of sweat begins to form on her brow.

"Ah. I see." Ciel pauses, and rests his chin on his folded hands. "You know, for a long time we thought you murdered them out of jealousy"

"Why is that?" Madame Red asks, curiosity burning in her crimson eyes.

"Well," Ciel leans back in his chair, "because the two were newlyweds, and you did not arrive at their wedding"

Angela Durless smirks, "why would I attend the wedding of two people who are rebelling against my organization?"

"Well...Did you not fall into forbidden love?"

"Yes" her face saddens, "but I had to do it. I had to!"

"Excuse me? I'm afraid you shall have to explain"

"Why should I?" she huffs.

"Because," Ciel smirks, "my butler has a gun to your head"

She scowls. And then, through gritted teeth:

"I was in love with one of the... 'victims' of the murder. Yes, he had married that woman...But I still loved him."

"So why did you kill him?"

"Because he was rebelling against Blackthorne"

"I see. So you murdered your lover for...What was it? Ah, yes: 'The sake of progress'" he smirks. "And what was the name of this man you loved?"

Angela Durless turns - if possible - even paler. Dread fills every feature on her face. I frown: why is this such a difficult question to answer? She has just admitted to murder and being part of an organization which tortures innocent people. So why did it horrify her to tell us the victims' names?  
_  
_But then, she looks right at me. And that's when I realize: I have been a fool.

The bodies were several months old.  
The victims were part of Blackthorne.  
The two were a couple.  
Their home was destroyed by a fire.

I look at her with dread, praying that she will not say the names I think she is going to say.  
_  
_"His name was Edward Riverson. His wife...Was Rosanna" she says through the tears streaming silently down her face as she watches me.

My head is pounding and everything is out of focus. I feel more like I am watching the scene from the outside – not as myself. Perhaps a panic attack is coming on. _No, _I scream at myself internally, _don't get weak now. You have something to do. _

"Sebastian" I hear myself say, "please give me that gun"

I watch him stare at me as he places the shiny metal in the palm of my hand. I gaze at this woman, who is the sole reason that everything has been destroyed. I raise the gun to her head.

**A SMALL BUT SIGNIFICANT ACT**_**  
She does not pull the trigger.**_

Perhaps you are hoping that I stop because I do not want to kill her. Perhaps you think that I am far too kind, too _good _to murder someone. But no, that was not my motive. I stop because killing her would be far too nice. And it would ruin this beautiful carpet.

"Outside" my voice comes again, "Sebastian would be awfully irritated if you stained this carpet" I see him smirk out of the corner of my eye. I am a true Phantomhive maid.

We walk through the French doors and onto the patio at the back of the manor. It's a sort of flower garden, but most of these blooms don't belong here. They belong in some foreign country, not here in England. For some reason, it bothers me.

I clear my head and get back to the situation at hand.

"Finny, do you mind?" I ask the trembling gardener behind me. I offer him the gun, although I would much rather do the honours myself. But this woman also caused Finny direct misery, as he was tortured in her organization.

"No" he whispers, "no, you do it Skye." I suppose he does not want to live with the guilt of personally shooting this retched woman. Well, who am I to judge?

"Please, forgive me. I beg of you, make it quick" she gazes at me, pure desperation in her crimson orbs.

I smirk, "Angela Durless. Why on earth should I give you such a pleasure?"

She whimpers, and I just look at her without feeling a single thing.

"Actually, I have a few questions of my own to ask you first"

* * *

Oooh! Will she shoot her?...Next chapter: the finale. What do ya think? :P

~Ched.~


	12. Chapter 12

Here is the final chapter! Just a warning: Sebastian is probably OOC later.  
Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**  
**Three Silver Bullets**

"So. Did you know your two victims had a daughter, Madame Red?" I ask the cold woman dressed in a fiery red.

"No." she whispers, looking at me in desperation.

"Would you still have done it if you had known they had a family? A child?"

She stays very still for several seconds. And then, she slowly looks at me and says "Yes"

I give one short laugh. So if it wasn't for my parents' hiding me, then I would surely be rotting with them. But my parents _did_ hide me every night they had a gathering. No one even knew I existed. As lonely as that made me feel, it was the right thing to do.

"So you would kill the man you loved, and his wife and his child...For Blackthorne?"

"Yes."

"Must be very important to you, Angela Durless"

"It is" she whispers.

"Why?"

"Because..." she falters, but takes a look at my gun and continues, "Because Blackthorne means well. Do you not understand? We human beings can be so, so much more! We could be strong, powerful... dominate all those around us."

"But sometimes power makes one greedy" I say quietly. After a few moments of just silent staring, I change the topic. "The victims were newlyweds. Tell me, why did I never know this? They were my parents, after all."

She laughs, "Oh come now, Skye." On first name basis are we now? "Surely you have learned by know that your parents had a few too many dirty little secrets?"

I scowl at her. "But nowhere near as many as you had, Angela"

The crimson lady looks at me as though she has been shot, yet no bullet as left my gun. She stares at me, wounded. And then she sinks to the ground: "I know...I know" her voice is a hoarse whisper. I would almost feel sorry for her, if it weren't for the fact that she stole my parents' lives and ruined countless others.

"Look, I tried to tell you. I tried to break the barrier of lies between you and your parents. When I found out they had a daughter...I made those documents retrievable on purpose, Skye. So that you would learn the truth. I am a good person." She cries. My eyes narrow: I always knew there was a reason for those emails being so easy to hack into.

My heart flutters as Sebastian and I make eye contact. _You were wrong.__  
_

I shake my head, clearing my mind. She cannot persuade me, I have already made my decision. Everyone is watching us; I have created quite the scene. It is time to hurry things along, then. I take a deep, long breath. So, it begins.

.

.

"There are three bullets in this gun."

I gaze down my nose at the woman clad in red, grovelling at my feet. Begging...like a dog. It's a sorry sight indeed. I no longer feel an ounce of sympathy; not even a slither of guilt for what I am about to do seeps into my mind.

"That's one each." I survey the pistol in my hand, twirling it between my fingers delicately.

"P...Please, you...you don't understand!"

"Oh, I think I understand just perfectly, Angela." I say bitterly. Words could not describe how much I resented this crumpled figure on the floor. How the bile builds in my throat and how I want to spit on her in disgust.

"Please...Forgive me...I...I'm so sorry" She looks up at me, tears burning in her crimson eyes.

"Tell my parents that."

She looks at me as though slapping her would have been less painful. _Maybe it would_ _have been_.

"I'm not saying that what they did was right," I admit, through gritted teeth, "But it's nothing on what _you_did."

My parents still joined Blackthorne. Yes, it was to rebel. But for a moment, they supported the organization. And they, no doubt, had to murder others for their rebellion act.

I hold the handgun firmly between my hands, trying to disguise how much my hands are shaking. But I am strong now. I will not sink into a panic attack: there are things to be done. "So as I was saying...Three bullets." My eyes lie on her as she attempts to inch away from me. I click the first bullet into its chamber, and I feel everything around me go silent.

"One for my parents."

With one light squeeze of the trigger, a silver bullet flies into her leg, making her attempts to crawl away utterly impossible. She gives a mix between a scream and a groan and clutches her thigh in agony. I feel no remorse.

Images of my mother and father flash into my mind.

I scream with delight as my father throws me in the air, and catches me just in time...I smile contentedly, listening to the sweet melody of my mother singing a lullaby before bedtime...I giggle whilst hiding in the cupboard, waiting to surprise my father on his birthday...I watch my mother's feet move away from me for the last time, from my spot underneath the bed...

"One for Finny."

I step closer and shoot her in the stomach. She screeches; long and piercing. It makes my blood curdle.

She is a complete wreck now, as I kneel down to her, my face just inches from hers.

"And one for me." I bend down and breathe into her ear. I let the final bullet slip into its chamber with a soft, metallic _clink._

The final bullet glides into her skull.

But just before her soul escapes her, she looks into my eyes and says: "There's something you should know..." she whispers. Her skinny fingers lock around my hair and she pulls me close to her lips which remain a glossy red. And then, her mouth opens and she utters a few words which make my blood run cold.

**THE FINAL WORDS OF MADAME RED  
**_**Blackthorne tested on you too, Skye Riverson.**_

I look at her, my eyes wide and my heart in my throat. "What?" my voice shakes. But as I look at her, pressing for more answers...The light fades away from her scarlet orbs. And then I know. I know that I have made a terrible, terrible mistake.

How will I ever know if I was tested on or if this was just one final lie?

My head falls into my hands as a wave of dread washes over me. But I am not super strong or super intelligent or anything else inhuman. What could I have been tested for?

"Skye. Skye, come on..." Is that Sebastian? It's hard to tell, my ears are ringing too much to hear. I feel a pressure in my legs and my back, and then I am lifted up from the ground. Yes, it is Sebastian. He smells like Sebastian. I remember from that night I slept in his lap. How strange that my mind should recall such a thing now.

I fall into the gentle rhythm of my body gently rocking in time with his as he carries me somewhere. I am uncertain as to where we are going, but there is one thing which is definite in my mind: it will be better than here.

.

"What am I going to do with you?" Sebastian sighs, sat at my bedside as my eyes flicker open. I gaze at him unseeingly before raking my fingers through my hair and groaning quietly. I gulp down a glass of water which he hands me, then flop back down onto the bed.

For a moment, I think I have fallen asleep. But my mind has done anything but. Suddenly, a wave of horror crashes into me as I recall the final words of Angela Durless: "Blackthorne tested on you too, Skye Riverson"

My heart pulses grotesquely, and my whole body feels wrong. What have they done to me?

"Do you think she was telling the truth?" I whisper to him.

Somehow, he understands what I am talking about. "It is hard to tell." he replies after a long moment of deliberation.

I sit up again slowly, my brow furrowed into a frown as I think. There is nothing different about me. I have never been different from other people. Yes, I have had my Dream Land obsession...But that is no doubt something I conjured up because of my parents' death. That is no drug induced state. And besides, what good would that be to Blackthorne, anyway?

Added to this, how would my parents be stupid enough to let Blackthorne test on me? If they went through all that trouble to keep me safe...No. It's impossible.

I feel myself calm down. There is nothing abnormal about me. "It doesn't matter. Even if they did test on me, I don't care" my voice is a whisper.

"Why not?" he asks, sounding genuinely curious. I think before replying.

"I am no different than I was before she told me. I have not suffered from their testing...If they did test on me, then they have been merciful enough to remove my memories of it. So there is no harm done. And besides" I look straight into his crimson eyes. How is it even possible to have eyes which are so red? "it doesn't matter. It is in the past now"

He smiles. It is only a gentle curving of his lips but for some reason my heart goes haywire. I wonder why it's doing that. I must be ill.

It's not...It's not because I _like _him or anything. Yes, I'm ill. That's right, I'm just sick.

Suddenly, his eyes have some sort of mischievous glint in them. Before I can ask him if he is ill too, he has me pinned on the bed and his fingers are snatching my wrist. As his fingertips feal a surging pulse, his smile twists into a snigger.

"Skye Riverson," he gazes down at me, a teasing smile still on his lips "do you love me?"

"What?" I gasp: such an outright question. "No!" I blush. Why am I blushing? "Of course not. Get off of me!" my face is burning. It shouldn't be burning.

Then his eyes lock with mine and I struggle profusely as he leans in. _Closer...Closer...Closer..._

Our lips touch.

It's strange, but no one has ever kissed me before. Not in this way, at least. For some reason, my body stops struggling. The hand which isn't clasped in his iron grip, feeling my pulse, tangles itself in his raven black hair.

_Wait,_ I think, as I sink further into the kiss, _am I actually...Am I seriously _enjoying _this?_

And why is the butler kissing me, anyway?

I struggle again, trying to push him away by hitting his shoulders and slithering out of his reach. Finally he gives in, chuckling devilishly. I glare at him. _I can't believe I actually enjoyed that. _Quickly, my hands find as many items in a one metre radius around me, and I throw them all in his direction. He sniggers and saunters out of the door with a "don't miss me too much, my love!"

"I hate you!" my voice follows him out of the door.

And then I am alone. For some reason, I can't stop smiling. My fingers trace my lips gingerly. How strange it feels to kiss someone.

I pick myself up from the bed. Sebastian must be a remarkable kisser, because I feel fine now. Perhaps light headedness is the best cure for a post-murder. I grimace as my mind tries to block that out.

My feet stop in front of the mirror, and I turn to gaze at the girl reflected there. My dirty blonde hair is knotted, and there are dark bags under my eyes. But as dead as my exterior looks, it is clear from my sparkling eyes and my grin that I am most definitely alive.

Because I have two choices. Number one: I can dwell on my past, holding a grudge for the rest of my life. Or, number two: I can embrace the present as well as what is to come.

**A NOTEWORTHY NOTE  
**_**Skye Riverson chooses option number two.**_

* * *

_**~*~  
Fin.  
~*~**_

* * *

_**a/n please read-**_

Thank you so much for reading the whole story! I know there are a few loose ends: blackthorne still exists, was she tested on? etc...I might write a sequel but meh. I've moved on & got a new story going now: 'Death On Vacation'. It's another Sebastian X OC Pairing, so check it out? :)

Also, I know that you're always getting asked to review and everything but...well...Lonely blue button down there?

Thanks again! You're awesome.

~Ched.~


	13. NEWS

**A (RATHER LONG) AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Alas, I'm afraid this is not a new chapter...but this IS a notice to say that MANY CHAPTERS shall be written...soon...ish...

**I have every intention of writing a sequel** - plus you've all been so lovely, how could I say no?! Besides I feel pretty guilty – that was a pathetic ending...so many loose ends! I just really needed a break :) Forgive me.

When I do write a sequel I will re-read the past chapters & rectify any mistakes. So if you have any criticisms I'd love to know! That, and/or any questions you specifically want answering etc...I'd hate to leave any loopholes in the plot.

When will the sequel come you may ask? Well. That's a tough one. I intend to finish **Death on Vacation** first, and I doubt it will be done particularly soon. It's just too damn confusing to have such similar stories being written at the same time.

Ok so please don't be scared but...I will have a sequel started **by the end of 2012**. Sounds like ages, right? It is. But trust me, it's worth it ;) I'm starting A-levels though, so either I'll write fanfic as a form of procrastination (good fro you, bad for me) or I'll not be able to get as my chapters out as I'd like, due to major work overload (bad for you, bad for me). But yeah it's just a hazy deadline. You never know, I might just go crazy and continue this whilst writing my other fanfic...

Stay tuned...More awesomeness is yet to come...

A link to my other Sebastian x OC fanfic whilst you wait:** s/8231525/1/Death_On_Vacation** (Fanfic is weird about hyperlinks. Add that after . Or just go to my profile!) The prologue is a bit iffy but you get into it – I honestly promise.

I'll see you very soon...Skye Riverson's not finished her story just yet!

~Ched.~


End file.
